A  Drake 
By  George! 


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A  Drake 
By  George! 


By 


John  Trevena  t  f. 
"7  « 


New  York 
Alfred  A  Knopf 

MCMXVI 


COPYRIGHT,  1916,  BY 
ALFRED  A.  KNOPF 

All  rights  reserved 


PRINTED  IN   THE  UNITED   STATES   OF   AMERICA 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER  PAGE 

I.  SOMETHING  ABOUT  THE   FAMILY  1 

II.  EXHIBITION  DAY  AT  WINDWARD  HOUSE  15 

III.  THE  CAPTAIN  MAKES  HISTORY  36 

IV.  CHANGES  IN  THE  ESTABLISHMENT  51 
V.  GEORGE  TACKLES  THE  LABOUR  PROBLEM  68 

VI.  HONOURABLE  INTENTIONS  84 

VII.  SCANDAL  AND  EXPOSURE  100 

VIII.  A  TANGLED  INHERITANCE  125 

IX.  A  SUBTLE  SINNER'S  SUCCESS  I*3 

X.  THE  FIRST  PERSON  SINGULAR  PARAMOUNT  161 

XI.  SOME  LEADING  INCIDENTS  184 

XII.  A  SPLENDID  BARGAIN  203 

XIII.  WASPS  AND  OTHER  WORRIES  226 

XIV.  THE  GRABBERS  245 
XV.  A  NEW  HOUSE  AND  THE  SAME  OLD  FURNITURE 

XVI.  GEORGE   TAKES   CONTROL  279 

XVII.  PLOUGHING  THE  GROUND 

XVIII.  SOWING  THE  SEED 

XIX.  REAPING  THE   HARVEST  335 

XX.  THE   GLEANERS  355 


2133754 


A   Drake   By  George! 

CHAPTER  I 

SOMETHING    ABOUT    THE    FAMILY 

RUMOUR,  introducing  the  new-comer  as  a 
celebrity,  began  to  fly  about  immediately 
Captain  Drake  appeared  upon  the  scene 
and  distinguished  himself  not  only  by  blocking  the 
single  narrow  street  of  Highfield  with  a  presence 
weighing  two  hundred  and  fifty  pounds,  but  by  ad- 
dressing passing  men,  women,  and  children  in  a  voice 
which  sounded  from  the  church  at  the  top  of  the  hill 
to  the  post-office  at  the  bottom;  top,  middle,  and 
bottom  being  comparative  terms  when  applied  to  the 
great  hills  of  Highfield.  Rumour  provoked  excite- 
ment when  it  suggested  legal  influences  were  at  work 
about  a  couple  of  old  semi-detached  cottages  belong- 
ing to  an  absentee  landlord.  The  man  who  found 
it  necessary,  on  account  of  his  bulk  and  stentorian 
voice,  to  acquire  two  cottages  would  have  plenty  of 
money;  and  wealth  was  much  the  shortest  cut  to 

fame  that  Highfield  knew  of.     Rumour  passed  into 

1 


2  A  DRAKE  BY  GEORGE! 

a  condition  almost  hysterical  when  builders  arrived, 
demolished  the  two  old  cottages,  erected  a  gabled 
villa  of  suburban  type,  and  set  up  against  the  street 
a  massive  notice-board,  which  looked  as  if  it  had  been 
designed  for  some  important  railway  station ;  but 
instead  of  yielding  such  information  as  "  Mazeworthy 
Junction.  Change  for  the  Asylum,"  it  bore  the 
inscription,  "  Windward  House.  Captain  Francis 
Drake,  Master." 

Finally,  three  vanloads  of  furniture  were  dragged 
up  the  hill,  and  the  family  arrived  to  take  possession 
of  the  parish ;  for  it  became  at  once  evident  that  Cap- 
tain Drake  regarded  himself  as  "  old  man  "  of  the 
place,  the  vicar  as  his  sky-pilot,  and  the  male  inhabit- 
ants as  crushers,  jollies,  flatfeet,  and  shellbacks,  all 
of  whom  were  amenable  to  his  discipline. 

In  any  case  the  Captain  was  respected  by  every- 
body, whether  they  had  the  privilege  of  knowing  him 
or  not  —  he  was  one  of  those  men  who  had  to  be 
known  thoroughly  and  at  once  —  when  those  vanloads 
of  furniture  drew  up  alongside  Windward  House. 
Such  fumed  oak  had  never  been  seen  before  in  High- 
field.  There  were  vases  from  China,  ivory  images 
from  India,  living  trees  of  the  forest  in  flower-pots 
from  Japan,  with  curiosities  from  all  corners  of  the 
earth.  There  was  also  a  large  cage  full  of  cats, 
another  cage  of  monkeys,  yet  another  of  parrots,  and 
a  giant  tortoise,  its  carapace  completely  covered  with 


SOMETHING  ABOUT  THE  FAMILY       3 

newspaper  cuttings  relating  to  the  numerous  voyages 
of  the  old  sailor  who,  in  hours  of  leisure,  had  com- 
mitted to  the  Press  columns  of  adventures  wherein 
fiction  was  once  more  proved  to  be  far  more  interest- 
ing and  instructive  than  truth.  Birds  and  beasts 
are  not  usually  classed  as  furniture,  but  they  were 
announced  as  such  in  "  the  inventory  of  my  posses- 
sions "  duly  posted  upon  the  notice-board  by  the 
worthy  Captain  whose  capacity  for  self-advertise- 
ment was  much  too  great  for  a  little  country  parish. 
The  first  visitor  to  step  aboard  Windward  House 
was  the  Dismal  Gibcat,  and  he  came  as  usual  with  a 
scowl  and  a  grievance.  The  Dismal  Gibcat  occupied 
a  house  about  a  mile  from  the  village  in  the  company 
of  a  wife  who  was  more  dismal  than  himself;  he  called 
himself  a  gentleman  in  reduced  circumstances,  and 
could  spell  the  word  embarrassed  with  ease;  he  ruled 
the  parish  with  his  scowl,  and  spent  all  the  money  he 
could  get  in  enjoying  lawsuits  with  his  neighbours. 
This  gentleman  inquired  for  Mister  Drake  with  a 
fearful  emphasis,  and  received  the  information  that 
the  Admiral  was  shaving.  But  a  door  at  the  top  of 
the  stairs  stood  open,  and  a  moment  later  the  master 
himself  appeared  in  a  state  of  fury,  half-clothed  and 
shouting  tremendously,  "  Captain,  you  rascal !  Cap- 
tain Francis  Drake,  late  of  the  Mercantile  Marine, 
descendant  of  the  immortal  Admiral,  author  of  '  Tor- 
toises :  and  how  to  treat  them,'  *  Comments  on  Cats,' 


4  A  DRAKE  BY  GEORGE ! 

part  owner  of  the  sailing  ship  Topper,  now  unfor- 
tunately lying  at  the  bottom  of  the  Persian  Gulf. 
Captain  Francis  Drake,  always  at  the  service  of  the 
Admiralty,  but  never  at  the  beck  and  call  of  geese 
and  asses." 

"  Willie,  dear,  you  knew  your  name  never  was 
really  Francis,"  called  the  troubled  voice  of  Mrs. 
Drake  from  somewhere  in  the  parlour. 

"  Stand  off  the  bridge,  Maria.  Don't  argue  with 
your  superior  officer,"  roared  the  Captain. 

He  carried  a  shaving-brush  which  might  have  been 
mistaken  for  a  mop ;  and,  as  he  brandished  it,  flakes 
of  lather  fell  around  like  surf  from  a  tidal  wave.  His 
immense  face  resembled  the  Bay  of  Biscay  in  a  gale ; 
dark  and  lowering  above,  masses  of  foam  below. 
Removing  the  field  of  stubble  was  a  tempestuous 
operation  at  the  best  of  times:  members  of  the  crew 
kept  apart  from  the  quarter-deck,  where  the  Captain 
gasped  and  struggled,  scattering  lather  upon  pic- 
tures, cats,  and  furniture.  The  Dismal  Gibcat  could 
not  have  pronounced  his  insult  at  a  more  unfavour- 
able moment. 

"  I  have  called  to  tell  you  that  board  must  be  re- 
moved," he  said  rather  nervously;  for  he  had  begun 
to  realise  that  his  scowl  was  directed  against  an  indi- 
vidual who  was  not  going  to  be  reduced  by  it. 

"  You  give  sailing-orders  to  me  —  tell  me  to  hoist 
Blue  Peter  on  ray  board !  How  long  have  you  been 


SOMETHING  ABOUT  THE  FAMILY       5 

harbour-master?  "  the  Captain  shouted  as  he  crashed 
downstairs. 

"  We  are  proud  of  our  scenery,"  continued  the  Dis- 
mal Gibcat.  "  That  board  is  an  eyesore.  It  can  be 
seen  a  mile  away.  It  completely  destroys  the  local 
amenities,  and,  in  my  capacity  as  Chairman  of  the 
Parish  Council,  I  advise  you  to  remove  it  at  once." 

"  Local  amenities  are  pretty  little  things,  but  they 
aren't  half  as  good  as  Englishmen's  rights.  It's  a 
pity  you  didn't  make  a  few  inquiries  about  Captain 
Francis  Drake,  at  places  where's  he's  known,  before 
you  started  on  this  little  voyage  of  piracy.  If  you 
had  found  out  something  about  him,  and  his  way  with 
mutineers,  you  might  ha'  tossed  up,  heads  I  don't  go, 
tails  I  stay  away.  It's  no  use  trying  to  scare  me  with 
rocks  what  aren't  marked  upon  the  chart.  I've  cast 
anchor  here,  I've  paid  my  harbour-dues.  I've  got 
notions  about  landscape  what  perhaps  don't  agree 
with  yours ;  but  I  reckon  most  passengers  would 
rather  find  a  moorage  opposite  my  signal  station  than 
sail  half  a  knot  with  a  face  like  yours.  You  can 
drop  overboard,  Mister  Jolly  Roger  —  and  take  my 
local  amenity  with  you !  " 

So  saying  the  Captain  plunged  his  shaving-brush 
full  into  the  face  of  the  Dismal  Gibcat  and  drove  him 
discomfited  from  the  premises.  The  same  evening  he 
posted  the  following  notice: 

"  Captain  Francis  Drake  will  be  pleased  to  receive 


6  A  DRAKE  BY  GEORGE ! 

the  names  of  all  parishioners  who  desire  him  to  remove 
this  board,  in  order  that  he  may  attend  to  each 
grievance  personally.  He  begs  to  notify  friends  and 
neighbours  that  the  parrots  are  shedding  their 
feathers  just  now,  also  that  he  possesses  a  barrel  of 
tar.  Verbum  sap.,  and  God  save  the  King !  "  The 
hint  was  sufficient,  for  the  Dismal  Gibcat  had  been 
seen  upon  the  road  with  his  scowl  so  thoroughly 
lathered  that  it  looked  almost  like  a  grin.  Not  a 
complaint  was  received.  Indeed  the  vicar  went  so 
far  as  to  declare  the  notice-board  was  a  distinct 
acquisition  to  Highfield. 

Such  was  the  beginning  of  the  absolute  monarchy 
of  Captain  William  Drake.  He  dethroned  the  Dis- 
mal Gibtat  from  his  chairmanship  and  converted 
the  Parish  Council  into  a  monologue.  He  became 
vicar's  churchwarden,  and  kept  the  key  of  the  church 
in  his  pocket.  He  introduced  a  flower-show,  at  which 
only  vegetables  were  shown,  judged  the  exhibits  him- 
self with  a  tape-measure,  and  awarded  prizes  accord- 
ing to  length  and  circumference.  He  collected 
money  for  the  building  of  a  Parish  Hall,  where  the 
inhabitants  might  assemble  upon  winter  evenings,  to 
drink  gassy  liquors  and  listen  to  his  yarns.  His 
voice  stormed  continually.  Even  when  darkness  had 
fallen,  a  muffled  roar  sounded  from  Windward  House, 
where  Captain  Drake  would  be  reading  the  news- 
paper aloud,  denouncing  every  form  of  government, 


SOMETHING  ABOUT  THE  FAMILY       7 

and  declaring  that  nothing  sailed  between  the  British 
Empire  and  disaster  except  the  ships  of  the  mercan- 
tile marine.  And  during  the  night  his  snores  sounded 
like  distant  traffic,  except  when  unable  to  sleep ;  and 
then  he  would  sit  up  in  bed  and  sing  hymns  for  those 
at  sea,  until  cattle  ran  about  the  fields,  and  cocks 
began  to  crow,  and  dogs  set  up  a  howl  in  every  farm- 
yard. 

His  untruthfulness,  which  harmed  nobody,  was  due 
entirely  to  a  powerful  imagination.  Voice  and  body, 
alike  tremendous,  made  him  conceited  to  such  an  ex- 
tent that,  had  he  been  ushered  into  the  presence  of 
any  sovereign,  except  the  King  of  England  —  whom 
he  regarded  as  an  equal  —  he  would  perhaps  have 
given  Majesty  permission  to  be  seated,  and  might 
even  have  encouraged  him  to  speak  with  a  certain 
amount  of  familiarity.  After  having  commanded  a 
ship  for  a  number  of  years,  he  was  intolerant  of  even 
the  mildest  form  of  opposition;  while  the  knowl- 
edge that  he  had  succeeded  in  this  life  supplied  him 
with  an  extra  personality  of  self-confidence. 

His  tyranny  was  quite  a  good  thing  for  Highfield. 
It  caused  the  inhabitants  to  remember  —  and  some 
to  discover  —  there  were  other  places  on  the  map 
no  less  important.  It  was  responsible  for  certain 
improvements,  such  as  the  introduction  of  telegrams 
and  an  evening  post.  But  it  did  not  succeed  in  im- 
pressing upon  the  people  the  fairly  obvious  fact  that 


8  A  DRAKE  BY  GEORGE! 

some  other  country  would  in  time  become  so  jealous 
of  their  territory  as  to  lay  siege  to  the  church,  gen- 
eral-store, and  post-office,  with  the  idea  of  breaking 
open  poor-box  and  till,  and  escaping  with  loose  cash 
and  stamps;  for  Highfield,  being  in  the  middle  of 
Devonshire,  therefore  at  the  centre  of  the  universe, 
evinced  a  fine  contempt  for  foreign  countries.  Cap- 
tain Drake  was  fond  of  his  joke,  but  he  simply  made 
a  braying  ass  of  himself  when  he  declared  other  coun- 
tries beside  England  possessed  a  mighty  army,  al- 
though the  same  listeners  were  well  able  to  accept  the 
statement  that  he  had  once  adopted  a  mermaid. 

On  this  single  matter  the  Captain  was  a  pessimist-; 
and,  as  he  believed  in  appealing  to  the  eye  when  the 
appeal  to  the  ear  failed,  he  prepared  and  set  up  an- 
other notice-board,  upon  which  he  had  painted  in 
large  letters  with  his  own  hand,  "  The  enemy  will  be  in 
Highfield  to-morrow  " ;  and  he  whipped  small  boys 
who  threw  stones  at  it;  and,  when  their  parents 
grumbled,  he  threatened  to  whip  them  too.  The  mild 
vicar  entirely  lost  his  temper  upon  this  occasion,  and 
told  the  Captain  plainly  he  was  stirring  up  evil 
passions  in  the  parish  and  corrupting  the  morals  of 
the  young. 

"  That  board  may  tell  a  lie  for  a  good  many 
years ;  but  it  will  speak  the  truth  at  last,"  came  the 
answer. 

The  family  at  Windward  House  consisted  of  the 


SOMETHING  ABOUT  THE  FAMILY       9 

Captain  and  his  wife,  their  nephew  George,  with  the 
two  servants,  Kezia  and  Bessie.  Mrs.  Drake  was  a 
lady  of  substance,  having  spent  by  far  the  greater 
part  of  her  life  in  a  position  which,  when  not  recum- 
bent, had  been  sedentary:  when  travelling  with  her 
husband  the  compartment  they  occupied  had  a 
singularly  crowded  appearance.  She  and  the  Cap- 
tain were  devoted  to  each  other,  in  spite  of  the  fact 
that  he  had  not  fallen  in  love  with  her  until  he  had 
made  sure  she  did  possess  a  comfortable  income, 
even  though  it  was  derived  from  trust  funds  in  which 
she  enjoyed  a  life  interest  only. 

"  You  commenced,  my  love,  as  the  loadstone  of  my 
career,"  remarked  the  Captain  upon  the  occasion  of 
their  silver  wedding,  "  and  have  continued  as  the 
pole-star  of  my  existence." 

Having  no  children,  they  adopted  the  son  of  the 
Captain's  younger  brother,  who  had  died  at  an  early 
age,  after  having  attempted  almost  every  form  of 
livelihood,  and  trying  none  which  did  not  make  him 
poorer.  George  was  apparently  making  it  his  busi- 
ness in  life  to  defeat  this  record.  He  had  occupied 
thirty  years  in  seeking  to  discover  the  most  restful 
method  of  leaning  against  a  wall,  and  the  least  em- 
barrassing manner  of  keeping  the  hands  at  ease 
within  his  trouser  pockets.  He  had  been  sent  to 
school,  but  ran  away.  He  had  been  exiled  to  Can- 
ada, but  had  returned  as  a  stowaway.  He  had  been 


10  A  DRAKE  BY  GEORGE ! 

placed  in  business,  but  dismissed  at  the  end  of  a 
week.  Mrs.  Drake  often  wondered  why  George  had 
been  created.  Most  human  pegs  can  find  a  hole 
somewhere,  but  George  was  neither  square  nor 
round ;  and  shapeless  holes  are  somehow  not  pro- 
vided. 

Kezia  had  entered  Mrs.  Drake's  service  at  a  very 
early  age,  and  was  determined  upon  remaining  with 
the  family  until  the  end.  She  knew  nothing  about 
herself,  except  that  she  was  a  respectable  person  and 
belonged  to  the  Church  of  England.  She  did  not 
know  her  age,  but  believed  she  had  been  born  in  Exe- 
ter since  the  building  of  the  cathedral ;  for  she  re- 
called, as  her  earliest  experience,  falling  upon  her 
face  beside  the  west  front  of  that  building  on  a  cold 
winter's  day,  and  being  picked  up  by  no  less  a  person 
than  the  Dean,  who  had  made  a  joke  about  the  un- 
godly and  slippery  places,  which  was  published  in  a 
local  paper,  quoted  in  the  Press  of  the  country  as  a 
witticism  of  the  Duke  of  Wellington,  and  translated 
into  most  of  the  European  languages  in  consequence. 
At  all  events,  Kezia  had  belonged  to  the  Church  of 
England  ever  since.  She  was  not  sure  of  her  Chris- 
tian name,  but  felt  certain  it  was  Biblical,  and  rather 
fancied,  "  'twur  one  of  Job's  young  ladies  " ;  and 
she  did  not  oppose  Mrs.  Drake's  preference  for  Ke- 
zia. Nor  did  she  know  her  surname,  but  had  an  idea 
her  father  had  been  called  Tom  by  his  wives,  of  whom 


SOMETHING  ABOUT  THE  FAMILY     11 

he  had  two;  and,  as  she  could  remember  two  Mrs. 
Toms,  it  seemed  probable  that  the  first  had  been  her 
mother.  She  had  always  got  along  very  nicely  with- 
out a  surname,  which  was  not  nearly  so  necessary 
to  a  woman  as  to  a  man :  she  really  did  not  want  one, 
unless  the  man  who  belonged  to  it  had  a  voice  and 
figure  like  her  dear  admiral.  She  had  looked  with 
enthusiasm  upon  that  massive  form,  and  had  listened 
in  admiration  to  that  mighty  voice,  until  she  felt  that 
an  ordinary  man  with  a  normal  voice  would  quickly 
make  her  dull  and  peevish. 

Bessie  had  not  yet  become  a  person  of  importance. 
She  was  quite  young,  fairly  good-looking,  and  still 
growing,  which  was  alarming  since  she  was  already 
out  of  proportion  with  the  doors  of  Windward 
House.  Neither  she  nor  her  master  made  a  dignified 
entry  into  the  parlour ;  for  Bessie  had  to  stoop,  while 
the  Captain  was  forced  to  turn  sideways.  Mrs. 
Drake  just  fitted  when  nobody  flustered  her.  Bessie 
knew  the  whole  history  of  herself  and  family ;  and 
was  proud  of  the  fact  that  her  father  owned  a  fish- 
ing-smack, while  both  her  brothers  would  have  en- 
tered the  Navy  had  they  not  suffered  from  an  incur- 
able tendency  to  reject  rations  at  the  first  rolling  of 
the  ship. 

Now  that  the  Captain  was  settled  in  the  haven  of 
Highfield,  he  had  solved  all  his  difficulties  except  the 
one  problem  of  finding  a  place  in  the  world  for 


12  A  DRAKE  BY  GEORGE ! 

George.  About  twice  a  week  he  created  a  thunder- 
storm about  his  nephew,  who  remained  in  the  attitude 
of  an  admiring  listener  until  the  tempest  of  tangled 
metaphor  concerning  starvation  ahead,  rudderless 
vessels,  and  vagabonds  begging  their  bread,  had  died 
away  along  the  village  street;  and  then  the  cunning 
rascal  would  either  place  a  trembling  hand  to  his 
forehead  declaring  he  had  not  much  longer  to  live,  or 
shuffle  towards  the  door  with  the  announcement  that 
it  might  just  as  well  happen  at  once,  and  drowning 
was  the  best  way  he  could  think  of,  as  he  could  not 
afford  to  purchase  fire-arms  or  poison;  besides,  a 
watery  grave  was  the  proper  ending  for  a  Drake. 
He  generally  added  it  was  the  man  whom  he  ven- 
erated, the  man  who  was  content  to  remain  in  a 
humble  position  when  he  should  have  been  First  Lord 
of  the  Admiralty,  the  man  who  was  the  British  Em- 
pire's principal  asset  —  his  uncle  —  who  had  driven 
him  to  this.  Then  the  Captain,  who  was  a  soft- 
hearted old  simpleton  where  his  family  was  con- 
cerned, would  take  George  by  the  shoulders,  press 
him  into  a  chair,  give  him  money  to  buy  tobacco 
which  might  ease  his  nerves,  beg  for  his  forgiveness, 
and  behave  like  a  beneficent  Providence  until  wind 
and  weather  were  favourable  for  the  next  thunder- 
storm. 

As  a  matter  of  fact,  the  Captain  loved  his  nephew, 


SOMETHING  ABOUT  THE  FAMILY     13 

who  supported  his  opinions  and  flattered  him  con- 
tinually. Besides,  George  was  fond  of  cats,  and  re- 
spected the  monkeys,  and  would  frequently  take  the 
tortoise  for  a  stroll.  Mrs.  Drake,  on  the  other  hand, 
made  no  secret  of  her  contempt  for  an  able-bodied 
man  who  seemed  to  regard  Windward  House  as  an 
hotel  where  he  could  receive  board  and  lodging  with- 
out payment.  She  reminded  George  constantly  she 
had  no  money  to  leave,  and  when  she  was  gone  he 
would  find  himself  dependent  upon  charity;  but 
George  would  beg  her  not  to  worry,  as  he  had  no  in- 
tention of  outliving  any  one  who  was  so  good  to  him. 
Mrs.  Drake  then  stated  that,  in  her  opinion,  he  would 
in  a  future  state  of  existence  be  separated  from  his 
uncle  and  herself,  and  for  that  alone  he  ought  to  feel 
ashamed.  And  George  admitted  he  was  ashamed, 
but  even  an  ever-present  sense  of  shame  was  better, 
he  thought,  than  a  separation  from  his  uncle  and 
aunt  in  this  life. 

Mrs.  Drake  had  a  good  reason  for  not  insisting 
upon  George's  departure.  Doctors  had  warned  her 
that  the  Captain's  immense  size  was  not  a  healthy 
symptom:  upon  his  last  voyage  he  had  been  discov- 
ered unconscious  in  his  cabin;  and  although  he  de- 
clared subsequently  this  was  nothing  more  than  a  fit 
of  exhaustion  easily  to  be  explained  by  his  first  mate's 
habit  of  answering  back,  it  was  nevertheless  accepted 


14  A  DRAKE  BY  GEORGE! 

as  a  danger  signal  which  made  retirement  necessary. 
Even  the  unprofitable  George  might  be  of  service 
should  a  similar  fit  of  exhaustion  seize  upon  the  Cap- 
tain in  his  house. 


CHAPTER  II 

EXHIBITION    DAY   AT    WINDWARD    HOUSE 

' « "m  JT  ANSION  and  grounds  will  be  thrown 
%/•  open  to  the  public  on  Sunday  after- 

^  y  N  noon,  between  the  hours  of  three  and 
five,  for  the  inspection  of  the  rare  and  costly  an- 
tiquities collected  during  his  numerous  voyages  by 
Captain  Francis  Drake,  who  will  personally  conduct 
parties.  As  the  hall  carpet  is  of  inestimable  value, 
having  formerly  covered  a  floor  in  the  Yildiz  Palace, 
visitors  are  earnestly  requested  to  wipe  their  boots." 

"  I  think  you  have  forgotten,  William,"  said  Mrs. 
Drake,  when  her  husband  had  posted  this  notice, 
"  how  you  bought  that  strip  of  carpet  at  an  auction 
sale  for  eighteenpence.  The  piece  you  bought  from 
Turkey  is  in  Bessie's  bedroom." 

"  Ah,  yes,  my  dear,  but  it  might  just  as  well  be  in 
the  hall,  and  for  the  purpose  of  exhibition  we  can 
quite  easily  imagine  it  is  there,"  replied  the  most 
capable  showman. 

By  twenty  minutes  past  three,  which  was  punctual 
for  Highfield,  a  respectable  number  of  villagers  had 

gathered  beside  the  notice-board  as  though  awaiting 

15 


16  A  DRAKE  BY  GEORGE ! 

an  excursion  train:  old  men  and  young,  women  and 
children,  stood  huddled  together  like  so  many  pris- 
oners of  war,  all  very  solemn  and  anxious.  One  lit- 
tle boy  was  sobbing  bitterly  because  a  report  had 
reached  him  concerning  another  little  boy  who  had 
been  invited  beyond  that  gate  and  introduced  to  the 
giant  tortoise,  which  had  displayed  since  then  a  singu- 
larly well-nourished  appearance.  Therefore  he  was 
vastly  relieved  when  the  Captain  announced  that, 
owing  to  the  size  of  the  crowd,  which  was  adopting  a 
closer  formation  every  moment,  children  would  not 
be  admitted  that  afternoon,  but  a  separate  day 
would  be  arranged  for  the  little  ones,  when  they 
could  play  in  the  garden  and  feed  the  animals;  an 
ominous  invitation  which  made  the  little  boy  cry 
yet  louder. 

The  Yellow  Leaf,  who  wore  a  coat  not  much 
younger  than  himself,  as  the  father  of  the  people, 
and  related  to  everybody  within  a  ten-mile  radius, 
stepped  first  into  the  house.  He  was,  however,  bet- 
ter dressed  than  the  Wallower  in  Wealth,  who  was 
believed  to  own  a  mattress  so  well  stuffed  with  gold 
and  silver  pieces  that  it  could  not  be  turned  with- 
out the  aid  of  crowbars.  The  Gentle  Shepherd 
paused  on  the  threshold  to  scrape  the  soles  of  his 
boots  with  a  knife.  The  Dumpy  Philosopher  nerv- 
ously unfastened  a  collar  which  was  borrowed.  The 
ladies  wore  all  the  finery  they  possessed. 


EXHIBITION  DAY  17 

"  You  are  now,  ladies  and  gentlemen,  standing  in 
the  hall  of  Windward  House,  upon  the  priceless  car- 
pet used  by  a  former  Sultan  of  Turkey  as  a  praying- 
mat,"  began  the  Captain. 

"  Must  ha'  been  a  religious  gentleman,"  said  the 
Yellow  Leaf  approvingly,  as  he  tapped  his  stick  upon 
the  threadbare  patches. 

"  And  fond  of  a  quiet  smoke,"  added  Squinting 
Jack,  pointing  to  some  holes  obviously  caused  by 
cigar-ends. 

"  What  size  of  a  place  would  this  Yildiz  Parish 
be  ?  "  inquired  the  Gentle  Shepherd. 

"  Palace,  my  dear  old  fellow.  It's  the  Windsor 
Castle  of  Turkey,  where  the  Sultan  prays  and  smokes, 
and  signs  death  sentences  of  his  Christian  sub- 
jects." 

"  Amazing  small  rooms,"  remarked  the  Dumpy 
Philosopher  curtly. 

"  The  Turks  don't  cover  the  whole  of  their  floors 
like  we  do,"  explained  the  Captain.  "  When  the 
Sultan  wants  to  pray,  they  spread  a  mat  like  this 
before  the  throne,  and  he  comes  down  on  it.  When 
he's  done  praying,  they  roll  up  the  mat  and  chuck 
it  out  of  the  window,  for  the  Sultan  never  uses  the 
same  bit  of  carpet  twice.  I  happened  to  be  passing 
underneath  his  window  when  this  particular  mat 
was  thrown  out,  so  I  picked  it  up  and  nipped  off  with 
it,  though  Christians  are  forbidden  by  the  law  of 


18  A  DRAKE  BY  GEORGE! 

Turkey  to  touch  anything  the  Sultan  has  even  looked 
at." 

"  Didn't  'em  try  to  stop  ye?  "  asked  a  lady. 

"  They  did,"  said  the  Captain  grimly.  "  Though 
boasting  isn't  much  in  my  line,  they  did  try  to  stop 
me  —  officers  of  the  army,  ministers  of  state,  offi- 
cials of  the  court,  men  in  the  street  —  but  Turks 
have  enormous  noses,  while  I  own  an  uncommon  big 
fist;  and  when  one  big  thing,  my  dear,  aims  at  an- 
other big  thing,  they  are  bound  to  meet.  You  can 
see  the  bloodstains  on  the  carpet  yet,"  declared  the 
Captain,  indicating  a  corner  where  Bessie  had  upset 
the  furniture  polish. 

"  I  do  wish  poor  dear  William  wouldn't  read  so 
many  newspapers,"  sighed  Mrs.  Drake  in  the  back- 
ground. 

"  Now,  my  dear  friends  and  neighbours,"  con- 
tinued the  showman,  warming  to  his  work,  "  al- 
though fully  conscious  of  my  own  unworthiness,  I 
beg  to  draw  your  attention  to  this  pedigree  of  my 
family,  framed  in  English  oak,  and  most  beautifully 
decorated  in  the  national  colours  by  one  of  our  lead- 
ing artists.  It  commences,  you  see,  with  the  name 
of  my  illustrious  ancestor,  Sir  Francis  Drake,  the 
mighty  admiral  who,  almost  unaided,  sent  the  Spanish 
Armada  to  the  bottom  of  the  Irish  Sea.  The  head 
of  the  family  has  been  honoured  with  the  name  of 
Francis  ever  since:  the  same  name,  ladies  and  gen- 


EXHIBITION  DAY  19 

tlemen,  and  the  same  undaunted  spirit.  Boasting 
is  painful  to  any  member  of  the  Drake  family,  yet 
I  would  say  —  give  me  the  Irish  Sea  and  some  Eng- 
lish ships ;  give  me  a  hostile  Navy,  such  as  was  faced 
by  my  immortal  propogand  .  .  .  my  imperishable 
protogent  .  .  .  my  eternal  prognosticator  —  that's 
the  word,  dear  people  —  and  if  you  think  I'm  boast- 
ing, I  am  very  sorry  for  your  opinion  of  Devon- 
shire manliness  and  courage." 

"  You  ha'  forgot  to  mention  what  you  might  do 
to  the  hostile  Navy,"  reminded  Squinting  Jack. 

"  Send  it  to  the  bottom,"  roared  the  Captain. 

"  I  can't  bear  to  listen  when  he  gets  near  the 
pedigree,"  murmured  Mrs.  Drake.  "  He  will  not  re- 
member he  made  it  all  up.  And  he  has  made  me 
promise  to  put  Francis  on  the  gravestone." 

"  Wur  Queen  Elizabeth  one  of  your  descendants 
too  ?  "  inquired  the  Gentle  Shepherd  in  great  awe. 

"  Not  exactly :  she  was  not,  what  you  would  de- 
scribe as  one  of  my  forefathers,"  explained  the  Cap- 
tain. "  Her  illustrious  name  is  here  inserted  within 
brackets  as  an  indication  that  the  Drakes  do  not 
claim  to  be  of  the  blood  royal;  but,  as  you  will  re- 
member, Queen  Elizabeth  knighted  Sir  Francis,  and 
there  is  a  pleasant  tradition  in  the  family  that  she 
once  flirted  with  him." 

"  Ain't  that  wonderful !  "  gasped  one  of  the  ladies. 

They  entered  the  parlour,  where  George  was  crush- 


20  A  DRAKE  BY  GEORGE! 

ing  flies  with  a  cork  against  the  windows.  It  was 
his  habit  to  display  some  form  of  activity  when  his 
uncle  was  about. 

"  The  pictures,"  resumed  the  Captain,  "  are 
chiefly  good  examples  of  the  oleographic  school ;  with 
here  and  there  a  choice  engraving  taken  from  the 
illustrated  press :  marine  landscapes,  depicting  sea 
breaking  upon  rocks,  being  a  prominent  feature. 
The  young  lady  picking  sunflowers  was  painted  by 
my  wife  at  the  age  of  seventeen,  and  is  the  only  ex- 
ample of  that  period  which  survives." 

"  The  flowers  are  dahlias,"  Mrs.  Drake  corrected 
somewhat  sharply. 

"  My  dear,  anybody  acquainted  with  our  simple 
wayside  plants  could  tell  that  at  a  glance.  I  am 
afraid,  ladies  and  gentlemen,  the  only  flowers  I  can 
name  with  absolute  certainty  are  sea-anemones  and 
jellyfish.  The  grandfather  clock  is  unique,"  hurried 
on  the  Captain.  "  It  strikes  the  hours  upon  a  gong, 
chimes  them  upon  bells,  and  is  also  provided  with  a 
Burmese  instrument  which  discourses  sweet  music  at 
the  quarters.  A  clock  like  this  relieves  the  unnatural 
stillness  of  midnight,  and  gets  the  servants  up  early. 
A  barometer  is  affixed  to  the  case;  this  wind-gauge 
records  the  velocity  of  the  draught  between  door 
and  window;  while  the  burning-glass  registers  the 
amount  of  sunshine  received  in  this  portion  of  the 


EXHIBITION  DAY  21 

room  daily.  Twice  during  the  twenty-four  hours 
this  wooden  figure  winds  up  an  iron  weight  which,  be- 
coming detached  at  a  certain  point,  falls  upon  a 
detonating  substance  contained  in  this  iron  ressel. 
The  explosion  occurs  at  noon  and  midnight." 

"  Ah,  now  I  knows  it  ain't  always  cats,"  muttered 
the  Dumpy  Philosopher,  who  lived  about  a  hundred 
yards  away. 

"  About  four  hours  behind,  ain't  it,  Captain?  "  re- 
marked Squinting  Jack. 

"  It  does  not  profess  to  be  a  timekeeper,"  replied 
the  Captain.  "  Any  ordinary  clock  will  tell  you  the 
time.  This  does  more  —  it  instructs  and  enter- 
tains. It  keeps  us  alive  at  nights.  I  like  a  clock 
that  announces  itself.  Last  Sunday  evening,  when 
in  church,  I  distinctly  heard  the  explosion,  the  clock 
being  then  seven  hours  slow,  and  it  seemed  to  me  a 
very  homely  sound." 

"  I  hope  Mrs.  Drake  ain't  nervous,"  said  one  of 
the  ladies. 

"  No,  indeed,"  came  the  reply.  "  I  lived  for  ten 
years  next  door  to  one  of  the  trade-union  halls.  I 
find  it  very  quiet  here." 

"  I  reckon  this  would  be  another  clock,"  said  the 
Gentle  Shepherd,  staring  at  a  grandfatherly  shape  in 
the  corner. 

"  No,  my  friend,  that  is  an  Egyptian  mummy." 


22  A  DRAKE  BY  GEORGE! 

"  One  o'  they  what  used  to  go  about  on  Christmas 
Eve  in  the  gude  old  days  what  be  gone  vor  ever ! " 
exclaimed  the  Yellow  Leaf  with  great  interest. 

"  Not  a  mummer,  but  a  body,  a  corpse  —  dried  up 
and  withered,"  explained  the  Captain. 

"  Same  as  I  be  nearly,"  murmured  the  Yellow  Leaf ; 
while  some  of  the  women  screamed  and  some  giggled, 
one  hoping  the  creature  was  quite  dead,  another 
dreadfully  afraid  there  had  been  a  murder,  and  a 
third  trusting  she  wouldn't  have  to  adorn  some  par- 
lour when  she  was  took. 

"  Can  he  do  anything,  Captain  —  sing  and  dance, 
or  tell  ye  what  the  weather's  going  to  be  ?  "  asked 
Squinting  Jack. 

"  'Tis  a  matter  of  taste,  but  I  couldn't  fancy 
corpses  as  furniture,"  observed  the  Dumpy  Phi- 
losopher. 

"  What  I  ses  is  this,"  commented  the  Wallower  in 
Wealth,  "  if  I  wur  to  dig  bodies  out  of  churchyard, 
and  sell  'em  to  folk  as  genuine  antiquities,  I  would 
have  the  policeman  calling  on  me." 

"  You  mustn't  dig  up  Christians  —  that's  blas- 
phemy," said  the  Captain.  "  This  chap  was  a 
heathen  king,  one  of  the  Pharaohs  you  read  of  in  the 
Bible,  and  he  died  thousands  of  years  ago.  He  may 
have  known  Jacob  and  Joseph  —  and  I  bought  him 
for  five  bob." 

"  Ain't  that  wonderful !  "  exclaimed  a  lady. 


EXHIBITION  DAY  23 

"  It  do  make  they  Children  of  Israel  seem  amaz- 
ing real,"  admitted  the  Gentle  Shepherd. 

"  The  remarkable  object  occupying  the  centre  of 
the  mantelpiece  is  a  Russian  Ikon.  It  used  to  hang 
upon  the  quarter-deck  of  a  battleship  which  was  lost 
in  the  Baltic,"  continued  the  Captain. 

"  I  suppose  'tis  useful  vor  navigating  purposes," 
suggested  the  Dumpy  Philosopher. 

"  It  is  what  the  Russians  call  a  holy  picture. 
They  say  their  prayers  to  such  things,"  shouted  the 
Captain  angrily. 

"  A  queer  lot  of  old  stuff  here  along,"  said  the 
Gentle  Shepherd. 

"  A  few  articles  are  priceless,"  declared  the  pro- 
prietor. "  These  two  vases,  for  instance.  They 
were  looted  from  the  royal  palace  at  Pekin  by  an 
English  sailor  lad  who  had  intended  them  as  a  pres- 
ent for  his  sweetheart ;  but,  as  he  couldn't  carry 
them  about,  he  sold  them  to  me  for  ten  shillings.  An 
American  gentleman  offered  me  a  hundred  pounds  for 
the  pair,  but  I  wouldn't  part  with  them  for  five  times 
that  amount.  These  blue  dragons  are  covered  with 
a  lustre  known  as  glaze,  which  is  now  a  lost  art. 
This  portfolio  of  pictures  also  comes  from  China: 
there  are  more  than  fifty,  and  each  represents  one 
of  the  various  kinds  of  torture  commonly  practised 
by  Chinese  magistrates  upon  people  who  are  brought 
before  them,  charged  with  such  offences  as  forgetting 


24  A  DRAKE  BY  GEORGE ! 

to  pay  local  rates  or  being  polite  to  foreigners. 
Here  is  the  usual  punishment  for  omitting  to  lick 
the  dust  when  a  big-pot  passes  —  being  impaled  upon 
three  stakes  above  a  slow  fire  without  the  option  of 
a  fine." 

"  Nice  pictures  to  look  at  on  a  Sunday  evening," 
said  Squinting  Jack. 

"  The  curiously  twisted  spike,  which  bears  a  close 
resemblance  to  iron,  and  is  indeed  almost  as  heavy 
as  that  metal,  was  given  me  by  an  Egyptian  fellah, 
who  said  he  had  discovered  it  in  the  Assyrian  desert," 
resumed  the  Captain  with  somewhat  less  confidence. 
"  It  is  supposed  to  be  a  horn  of  that  extinct  animal 
the  unicorn,  but  I  don't  guarantee  it.  According  to 
a  mate  who  sailed  with  me  once  —  a  chap  who  knew 
a  lot  about  animals,  and  had  taken  prizes  at  dog- 
shows  —  the  unicorn  had  a  hollow  corn,  and  this, 
you  see,  is  solid." 

"  The  Egyptian  fellow  had  you,  Captain.  It  is 
iron,  and  there's  a  mark  upon  it  that  looks  to  me  like 
a  crown,"  declared  the  Wallower  in  Wealth,  who  had 
commenced  prosperity  as  a  wheelwright. 

"  Don't  that  go  to  show  it  is  genuine  ?  Ain't  the 
lion  and  unicorn  the  —  the  motto  of  the  crown  of 
England?"  demanded  the  Yellow  Leaf. 

"  The  beast  wouldn't  have  a  crown  stamped  on 
its  horn  when  he  drawed  breath,"  said  Squinting 
Jack. 


EXHIBITION  DAY  25 

"  I  b'ain't  so  certain.  I  ha'  seen  rummy  marks  on 
a  ram's  horn,"  answered  the  Gentle  Shepherd. 

"  There  are  wonderful  things  in  Nature,"  said  the 
Captain.  "  When  I  was  off  the  coast  of  South 
Africa,  I  watched  a  big  fish  flap  out  of  the  water, 
climb  a  tree,  stuff  itself  with  fruit,  and  then  return 
to  its  native  element.  It  may  be  the  unicorn  was 
adopted  as  one  of  the  supporters  of  the  Royal  Arms, 
because  it  had  this  mark  of  a  crown  upon  the  base 
of  its  horn." 

"  Some  volk  ses  there  never  wur  no  unicorns,"  re- 
marked the  Dumpy  Philosopher. 

"  Plenty  believe  creation  started  after  they  were 
born,"  retorted  the  Captain  sharply.  "  The  lion  and 
the  unicorn  are  the  royal  beasts  of  England  —  any 
child  knows  that  —  and  when  all  the  lions  have  been 
shot,  lots  of  people  will  say  there  never  were  such 
creatures.  If  unicorns  never  existed,  how  is  it  we 
possess  pictures  of  the  beast?  How  do  we  know 
what  'twas  like?  How  do  we  know  its  name,  and 
how  do  we  know  it  had  only  one  horn  bang  in  the 
middle  of  its  forehead?  " 

"  That's  the  way  to  talk  to  unbelievers,"  chuckled 
the  Yellow  Leaf.  "  I  make  no  manner  of  doubt  there 
wur  plenty  of  unicorns;  aye,  and  lions  and  four- 
footed  tigers,  and  alligators  too,  in  this  here  parish 
of  Highfield,  though  I  don't  seem  to  able  call  any 
of  'em  to  mind." 


26  A  DRAKE  BY  GEORGE! 

"  'Tis  an  iron  spike  sure  enough,  and  'twur  made 
in  Birmingham,"  whispered  the  Wallower  in  Wealth 
to  his  nearest  neighbour. 

"  The  little  creature  in  this  glass  case  is  a  stuffed 
mermaid,  supposed  to  be  about  three  months  old," 
the  Captain  continued,  indicating  a  cleverly  faked 
object,  composed  of  the  upper  part  of  a  monkey 
and  the  tail  of  a  hake.  "  I  did  not  see  it  alive  my- 
self, but  was  told  by  the  inhabitant  of  Sumatra, 
from  whom  I  bought  it,  he  had  found  it  upon  a  rock 
at  low  tide  crying  piteously  for  its  mother.  He 
took  it  home,  and  tried  to  rear  it  upon  ass's  milk, 
but  the  poor  little  thing  did  not  live  many  days.  It 
was  too  young  to  show  any  intelligence." 

"  The  ass's  milk  might  ha'  made  it  feel  a  bit  silly 
like,"  suggested  Squinting  Jack. 

"  Don't  it  seem  a  bit  like  slavery  to  ha'  bought 
it?  "  asked  a  tender-hearted  matron. 

"  And  a  bit  blasphemious  to  ha'  stuffed  the  poor 
mite?"  complained  another. 

"  Oh  no,  my  dear  ladies.  These  creatures  do  not 
possess  immortal  souls,"  replied  the  Captain. 

"  How  be  us  to  tell  ?  "  inquired  the  Dumpy  Phi- 
losopher. 

"  Only  creatures  who  can  pray  possess  immortal 
souls,"  declared  the  Captain  piously.  "  When  we 
pray  we  kneel.  Mermaids  cannot  kneel  because  they 
have  no  legs." 


EXHIBITION  DAY  27 

"  There  used  to  be  a  picture  in  the  schuleroom  of 
a  camel  on  his  knees,"  began  Squinting  Jack ;  but  the 
Captain  hurried  off  to  the  next  object  of  interest, 
which  was  a  snuff-box  composed  of  various  woods 
inlaid  with  mother  of  pearl. 

"  A  tragic  and  mysterious  relic  of  the  French 
Revolution,  found  in  the  hand  of  a  Duke  while  his 
body  was  being  removed  for  burial,"  he  said  in  his 
most  impressive  manner.  "  This  box  is  supposed  to 
possess  a  most  remarkable  history,  but  it  has  not 
been  opened  since  the  original  owner's  death." 

"  Will  ye  please  to  go  on  and  tell  us  all  about  it," 
requested  the  Yellow  Leaf. 

"  It  is  the  mystery  of  this  box  that  nobody  knows 
its  history,"  came  the  answer. 

"  Why  don't  ye  open  it,  Captain  ?  " 

"  The  second  mystery  of  this  box  is  that  the  secret 
of  opening  it  is  lost.  It  is  alike  on  both  sides,  so 
that  you  cannot  tell  which  is  top  and  which  bottom." 

"  I'd  open  'en  quick  enough,"  said  the  Wallower 
in  Wealth. 

"  And  smash  they  lovely  pearls  all  to  pieces !  "  cried 
a  lady  indignantly. 

"  'Twould  be  a  pity  to  spoil  a  couple  of  mys- 
teries," said  Squinting  Jack. 

"  That's  how  I  feel  about  it.  As  it  is,  this  snuff- 
box is  a  genuinely  romantic  antique ;  but  if  we  dis- 
covered its  history  —  which  I  was  assured  by  some 


28  A  DRAKE  BY  GEORGE! 

gentleman  in  Paris  is  most  astounding,  although  en- 
tirely unknown  —  it  might  lose  a  considerable  part 
of  its  value.  I  have  charged  my  wife  to  present  this 
box  to  the  President  of  the  French  Republic  after 
I  am  taken  from  her.  She  is  not  bound  to  present 
it  personally,  but  may  either  entrust  it  to  the  reg- 
istered post,  or  hand  it  to  his  Excellency  the  French 
Ambassador  at  his  official  residence  by  appointment, 
whichever  course  may  be  most  pleasing  to  her,"  said 
the  Captain  handsomely. 

A  number  of  curiosities  sealed  up  in  bottles  were 
exhibited,  and  then  the  Wallower  in  Wealth  delivered 
a  little  speech  he  had  prepared  beforehand.  He  be- 
gan by  mentioning  that  his  cottage  stood  near  the 
garden  of  Windward  House,  and  went  on  to  explain 
how,  upon  certain  evenings,  when  shadows  were 
lengthening,  his  soul  had  been  soothed  by  distant 
strains  of  sweetest  music.  His  wife,  who  had  no  ear 
for  harmony,  ventured  to  attribute  these  sounds  to 
the  rival  choirs  of  cats  on  the  roof  and  owls  in  the 
trees ;  his  mother-in-law,  who  was  superstitious,  gave 
all  credit  to  the  pixies ;  his  daughter,  who  was  senti- 
mental, had  gone  so  far  as  to  suggest  angelic  visi- 
tors. But  he  was  convinced  the  sounds  proceeded 
from  Windward  House.  And  he  concluded  by  im- 
ploring the  Captain  to  entertain  the  company  by  a 
few  selections  upon  his  gramophone. 

Captain  Drake  replied  that  nothing  so  common- 


EXHIBITION  DAY  29 

place  had  ever  disturbed  the  silence  of  his  abode. 
"  Oriental  music  of  the  most  classical  description  is 
played  here,"  he  said,  approaching  a  large  black 
case  upon  gilded  legs  and  throwing  back  the  lid. 
"  This,  ladies  and  gentlemen,  is  the  musical-box, 
formerly  in  the  possession  of  an  Indian  potentate, 
and  bestowed  upon  me  in  return  for  services  which 
I  could  not  mention  without  appearing  to  glory  in 
my  sterling  nobility  of  character,  which  was  one  of 
the  phrases  employed  during  the  ceremony  of  pres- 
entation. The  Maharajah  offered  me  the  choice 
of  three  gifts  —  a  young  lady,  an  elephant,  and  this 
musical-box.  Being  already  married,  and  having  no 
room  in  my  ship  for  a  bulky  pet,  I  —  somewhat  to 
the  astonishment  of  my  generous  benefactor  —  se- 
lected the  musical-box.  There  are  only  two  others 
like  it  in  this  world;  one  being  in  the  possession  of 
the  Dalai  Lama  of  Tibet,  while  the  other  unfortu- 
nately reposes  at  the  bottom  of  the  Atlantic.  The 
small  figures  dressed  as  Chinamen  —  these  boxes  were 
made  in  China,  but  the  art  is  now  lost  —  play  upon 
various  instruments  after  the  fashion  of  a  military 
band.  In  a  small  room  such  as  this  the  music  is  some- 
what harsh;  but  when  heard  from  the  garden  it  is, 
as  our  friend  here  has  said,  exquisitely  beautiful ; 
the  more  so  when  the  parrots  sing  in  unison." 

"I  thought  parrots  was  like  women;  they  just 
talked,"  said  the  Dumpy  Philosopher. 


30  A  DRAKE  BY  GEORGE! 

"  They  don't  sing  like  nightingales,"  the  Captain 
admitted.  "  But  their  notes  blend  very  pleasantly 
with  instrumental  music.  Before  we  go  outside  I  will 
wind  up  the  box ;  but  here  is  one  more  interesting 
relic  I  must  show  you.  This  Star  beneath  the  glass- 
case,  although  its  rays  are  now  sadly  tarnished, 
adorned  at  one  time  the  coat  of  His  Majesty  King 
George  the  First.  Its  history  is  fully  set  out  upon 
the  parchment  beneath.  The  thing  does  look  worth 
twopence,  I  admit,  but  then  you  must  remember  it 
was  made  in  Germany,  where  they  have  always  been 
fond  of  cheap  decorations,  which  could  be  worn  at 
Court,  and  then  hung  upon  Christmas  trees  to  amuse 
the  children.  According  to  this  parchment,  which 
supplies  us  with  documentary  evidence  —  the  writing 
is  somewhat  blurred,  as  I  was  forced  to  use  an  un- 
commonly bad  pen  —  this  Star  was  worn  by  His 
Majesty  upon  his  arrival  in  England.  The  maid  of 
honour,  whose  duty  it  was  to  rub  up  the  royal  decora- 
tions, took  the  wrong  bottle  one  day,  and  used  her 
own  matchless  preparation  for  the  skin  instead  of 
the  usual  cleaning  mixture ;  and  when  all  the  pretty 
things  turned  black  she  passed  them  on  to  a  Jew, 
and  told  the  king  she  was  very  sorry,  but  she  had 
accidentally  dropped  all  his  Hanoverian  decorations 
down  the  sink.  What  he  said  with  the  usual  month's 
notice  I  can't  tell  you,  but  probably  he  didn't  care 
much,  as  he  could  buy  stars  and  crosses  and  eagles 


EXHIBITION  DAY  31 

by  the  gross  from  the  toy-makers  of  the  Black  For- 
est cheap  for  cash. 

"  This  particular  Star  was  cleaned  by  a  patent 
process  and  sold  to  a  tailor,  who  stitched  it  on  to  a 
magnificent  coat  he  had  made  for  a  young  Duke  who 
had  just  stepped  into  the  title;  and  he,  after  a  time, 
passed  on  coat  and  Star  to  his  valet,  who  parted 
with  them  to  a  quack  doctor,  well-known  as  the  dis- 
coverer of  a  certain  cure  for  cataract.  He  had  al- 
ready made  about  a  score  of  people  totally  blind 
when  he  was  called  in  to  attend  a  lady  of  quality; 
and  when  this  lady's  sight  was  destroyed,  her  rela- 
tives invited  the  quack  either  to  have  his  own  eyes 
forcibly  treated  with  his  ointment,  or  to  clear  out 
of  the  country.  He  soon  made  up  his  mind,  sold 
the  coat  and  Star  to  a  pedlar,  and  returned  to  Ger- 
many, where  he  entered  the  diplomatic  service  and 
blinded  a  lot  more  folk. 

"  The  pedlar  made  his  way  up  to  Scotland  and, 
meeting  a  very  shabby  old  fellow  upon  the  road,  sold 
him  the  coat  and  Star  after  the  hardest  bit  of  bar- 
gaining he  had  ever  known  in  his  life.  This  old  chap 
turned  out  to  be  the  first  Duke  in  all  Scotland,  and 
he  was  driven  to  buy  the  finery  as  he  had  been  com- 
manded to  appear  at  Court.  When  he  got  to  Lon- 
don in  his  ramshackle  old  coach,  he  rubbed  up  the 
Star,  put  on  the  coak,  inked  the  seams  a  bit,  then 
went  to  the  Palace,  where  he  found  the  King  playing 


33  A  DRAKE  BY  GEORGE! 

dominoes  with  one  of  the  English  Dukes.  '  Gott  in 
Himmel!'  cried  his  Majesty,  'His  Grace  has  got 
my  old  Star.  I  know  it's  mine,  for  'twas  made  in 
dear  old  Sharmany.'  The  Scot  was  trying  to  ex- 
plain that  the  Star  had  been  made  to  order  by  his 
village  blacksmith,  when  the  English  Duke  chimed 
in,  *  And  he's  wearing  one  of  my  cast-off  coats ! ' 
At  this  point  the  manuscript  breaks  off  abruptly. 

"  That's  the  true  English  history  of  this  old  Star, 
which  I  purchased  for  sixpence  from  a  sailor  in  whose 
family  it  had  been  an  heirloom  for  the  last  two  hun- 
dred years." 

"  Ain't  that  wonderful !  "  exclaimed  a  lady. 

"  It  do  seem  to  make  they  old  kings  and  Druid 
volk  wonderful  clear  avore  us,"  murmured  the  Yellow 
Leaf. 

The  Captain  led  his  guests  into  the  garden,  while 
George,  after  laboriously  collecting  a  handful  of  dead 
flies,  followed,  ready  to  support  his  uncle  if  neces- 
sary, but  still  more  anxious  to  support  himself. 

"  My  cats  are  famous,"  said  the  Captain,  ap- 
proaching a  building  which  had  been  once  a  stable, 
and  was  now  divided  into  two  compartments ;  one 
with  a  wired  front  for  use  in  summer ;  the  other  closed 
and  kept  warm  for  winter  quarters.  "  I  have  now 
succeeded  in  obtaining  a  highly  scientific  animal,  com- 
bining the  sleek  beauty  of  the  pure  Persian  with 
the  aggressive  agility  of  the  British  species.  For 


EXHIBITION  DAY  33 

the  last  twenty  years  I  have  supplied  cats  to  the 
ships  of  the  mercantile  marine,  and  by  so  doing  have 
saved  much  of  the  commerce  of  this  country ;  for 
a  single  rat  will  destroy  five  shillings'  worth  of  per- 
ishable cargo  in  one  day;  while  a  single  cat  of  my 
variety  will  readily  account  for  fifty  rats,  not  to 
mention  mice  innumerable,  during  the  same  period. 
If  you  will  reckon  sixty  cats,  let  us  say,  supplied 
by  me  annually,  each  cat  accounting  for  fifty  rats, 
again  not  reckoning  mice  innumerable,  every  day ; 
if  you  will  add  a  dozen  cats  supplied,  again  by  me, 
to  dockyards  and  custom-houses  swarming  with  ver- 
min of  every  description,  each  rat  doing  damage  to 
the  extent  of  some  shillings  daily,  with  smaller  vermin 
doing  the  same  according  to  size  and  jaw-power;  if 
you  will  add  sixty  ships  to  twelve  dockyards,  and 
add,  let  us  say,  twenty  cats  supplied  from  my  stock 
to  foreign  countries,  reckoning  in  such  cases  in 
francs  or  dollars  instead  of  shillings,  and  making 
due  allowance  for  the  different  tonnage  of  vessels  or 
dimensions  of  dockyards,  if  you  will  remember  I  have 
also  supplied  most  of  the  cats  at  present  commis- 
sioned to  kill  rats  and  mice  upon  the  ships  of  the 
Royal  Navy ;  and  if  you  will  include  in  your  esti- 
mate the  Grimalkins  I  have  sold,  or  given,  to  millers, 
warehousemen,  wholesale  grocers,  and  provision-mer- 
chants .  .  ." 

"  I  reckon,  Captain,  that  will  come  to  about  quar- 


34»  A  DRAKE  BY  GEORGE! 

ter  of  a  million  pounds  a  year,  not  taking  into  ac- 
count shillings  and  pence,"  broke  in  Squinting  Jack 
to  free  the  Captain  from  his  obvious  difficulty. 

"  That  is  a  moderate  estimate ;  still  I  will  accept 
it.  Quarter  of  a  million  pounds  annually  for  twenty 
years,  friends  and  neighbour !  Have  I  not  done  my 
part  in  liquidating  the  national  debt  ?  " 

"  Cats  aren't  what  you  might  call  nearly  extinct 
animals  same  as  they  unicorns.  Us  ha'  got  more 
home  than  us  knows  what  to  do  with,"  remarked  a 
lady  timidly. 

"  Us  drowns  'em  mostly,"  observed  a  matron  who 
looked  capable  of  doing  it. 

"  Not  cats  like  these  —  the  latest  triumph  of  scien- 
tific inbreeding,"  the  Captain  shouted. 

"  Oh  no,  sir !  Ours  be  bred  all  nohow,"  said  the 
timid  lady. 

"  Don't  the  monkeys  tease  'em,  Captain  ?  "  asked 
the  Gentle  Shepherd. 

"  The  simians  have  sufficient  intelligence  to  under- 
stand that  my  felidae  are  famous  for  the  claws.  Be- 
neath that  tree,"  continued  the  Captain,  "  about 
three  paces  from  the  side  of  my  nephew,  you  see  the 
giant  tortoise,  which  is  the  greatest  antiquity  that 
I  possess  —  next,  of  course,  to  the  Egyptian 
mummy.  That  tortoise,  my  friends,  has  lived  in 
this  world  during  the  last  five  hundred  years." 

"Ain't  that  wonderful !"  gasped  a  lady. 


EXHIBITION  DAY  35 

"  I  captured  it  upon  the  beach  of  one  of  the  Gal- 
apagos Islands,  where  it  had  just  succeeded  in  lay- 
ing an  egg." 

"  Him  lay  eggs !  Then  all  I  can  say  is  he'm  the 
funniest  old  bird  I  ever  did  set  eyes  on,"  cried  a  lady 
who  was  famous  for  her  poultry. 

"  How  did  you  manage  to  get  hold  of  his  birth 
certificate,  Captain?"  asked  Squinting  Jack. 

"  Tortoises  live  for  ever,  if  you  let  'em  alone  — 
that's  a  proverbial  fact,"  stammered  the  Captain, 
somewhat  taken  aback.  "  You  can  tell  his  age  by  — 
by  merely  glancing  at  his  shell.  This  tortoise  has 
his  shell  covered  with  tarpaulin  to  prevent  the  news- 
paper cuttings  from  being  washed  off  by  rain;  but 
if  it  was  removed  you  would  see  that  the  shell  is 
yellow.  It  is  a  well-known  scientific  fact  that  the 
shell  of  a  tortoise  is  black  during  the  first  century 
of  its  life ;  takes  on  a  bluish  tinge  for  the  next  two 
hundred  years ;  and  becomes  mottled  with  yellow 
when  it  approaches  the  enormous  age  of  five  hun- 
dred years." 

"  Same  as  me,"  said  the  Yellow  Leaf  sadly. 


CHAPTER  III 

THE    CAPTAIN    MAKES    HISTORY 

ONE  day  George  entered  the  churchyard  and 
set  his  face  towards  a  big  sycamore,  with 
the  resolution  of  setting  his  back  against 
it.  He  had  been  tempted  by  the  wide  trunk  and 
smooth  bark  for  a  long  time;  but  his  attempt  to 
reach  the  tree  failed  entirely  because  it  stood  upon 
the  unfrequented  side  of  the  churchyard,  and  was 
surrounded  by  an  entanglement  of  brambles  and  net- 
tles some  yards  in  depth. 

Determined  to  reach  that  sycamore  somehow, 
George  complained  to  his  uncle  about  the  abominable 
condition  of  the  churchyard ;  and  Captain  Drake 
reprimanded  the  vicar  for  "  allowing  the  resting- 
places  of  our  historic  dead  to  become  a  trackless 
jungle";  and  the  vicar  once  more  implored  the  sex- 
ton to  give  up  the  public-house ;  and  the  sexton  de- 
clared there  were  no  such  blackberries  in  all  the 
parish  as  could  be  gathered  from  those  brambles. 

The  matter  would  have  ended  there  had  it  not  been 
for  Captain  Drake,  who  visited  the  territory,  explored 

36 


THE  CAPTAIN  MAKES  HISTORY     37 

to  within  fifteen  feet  of  the  sycamore,  then  called  a 
meeting  of  parishioners  and,  with  the  aid  of  dia- 
grams, showed  how  the  foremost  line  of  nettles  was 
advancing  so  rapidly  in  a  north-westerly  direction  as 
to  threaten  the  main  approach  to  the  vestry ;  while  a 
screen  of  brambles  had  already  reached  a  nameless 
altar-tomb  whereon  the  youth  of  the  place  by  tradi- 
tional right  recorded  their  initials. 

The  seriousness  of  the  weed  peril  had  not  been  real- 
ised until  then ;  as  the  Dumpy  Philosopher  remarked, 
they  had  all  been  asleep  and  thus  had  been  taken  un- 
prepared; but,  when  the  parishioners  did  realise  it, 
an  army  of  offence  was  raised  quickly;  the  nettles 
were  eradicated  and  the  brambles  uprooted ;  that  por- 
tion of  the  churchyard  was  thrown  open  to  the  pub- 
lic ;  and  George  attained  his  resting-place  beside  the 
sycamore. 

He  had  lounged  against  it  several  times  before 
his  eyes  fell  upon  an  inscription  which  appeared 
familiar,  although  obscured  by  moss  and  yellow 
lichen.  As  the  tombstone  was  not  more  than  three 
yards  away,  he  was  able  to  reach  it  without  much 
difficulty.  Reclining  upon  the  turf,  he  summoned 
up  energy  to  open  his  pocket-knife  and  to  scrape 
away  the  lichen  until  the  full  meaning  of  the  dis- 
covery burst  upon  him. 

Later  in  the  day  the  Yellow  Leaf  met  Squinting 
Jack,  and  said,  "  I  saw  Mr.  Drake  running  like  wild- 


38  A  DRAKE  BY  GEORGE ! 

fire  down  the  street  this  forenoon.  If  I  hadn't  seen 
'en  wi'  my  own  eyes,  I  wouldn't  ha'  believed  it." 

"  I  saw  'en  too  wi'  my  own  eyes,"  replied  Squint- 
ing Jack.  "  And  still  I  don't  believe  it." 

Captain  Drake  would  have  run  too  had  there  been 
less  of  him.  George  had  never  been  a  liar  —  the 
poor  fellow  had  no  imagination  and  rarely  picked 
up  a  newspaper  —  still  his  story  sounded  too  im- 
possible to  be  true.  They  reached  the  newly  dis- 
covered tombstone ;  the  Captain  read  the  inscrip- 
tion ;  and  in  a  voice  trembling  with  emotion  mur- 
mured, "  Amelia  Drake,  of  Black  Anchor  Farm,  in 
this  parish." 

The  portion  of  stone  which  bore  the  date  of  her 
departure  had  sunk  into  the  ground. 

"  George,  my  lad,"  cried  the  Captain,  "  this  is  the 
grave  of  my  long-lost  great-grandmother." 

"  The  missing  link,"  added  the  nephew,  with 
the  joyous  certainty  of  one  about  to  negotiate  a 
loan. 

"  Our  pedigree  is  now  complete.  I  am  certain  my 
father  used  to  speak  of  a  rumour  which  insisted  that 
his  grandmother's  name  was  Amelia;  and  now  we 
have  discovered  she  lived  in  this  parish,  at  Black 
Anchor  Farm,  which  no  doubt  had  passed  to  her 
husband  —  who  is  down  on  the  pedigree  as  having 
been  probably  lost  at  sea  —  from  the  lineal  descend- 
ant of  the  great  Founder  himself.  The  name  of 


THE  CAPTAIN  MAKES  HISTORY     39 

the  farm  proves  that.  You  see,  George,  the  ref- 
erence is  to  a  black  anchor,  a  new  freshly  tarred 
anchor,  not  to  an  old  rusty  red  one.  I  must  have 
the  stone  cleaned.  And  we  will  show  our  respect 
by  planting  roses  here." 

"  If  it  hadn't  been  for  me,  this  grave  would  never 
have  been  discovered,"  said  George,  ready  to  pro- 
duce a  statement  of  his  bankruptcy. 

"  That's  true,  my  lad.  It's  the  best  day's  work 
you  have  ever  done  in  your  life." 

"  Skilled  labour,  too,"  reminded  George,  still  ad- 
vertising. 

"  I  won't  forget,"  his  uncle  promised. 

Black  Anchor  Farm  was  situated  about  two  miles 
from  the  centre  of  the  village.  It  was  not  a  place 
to  covet,  consisting  of  a  mean  little  thatched  house; 
stable  and  barn  of  cob  walls  propped  up  by  pieces 
of  timber ;  and  half  a  dozen  fields  which  brought  forth 
furze  and  bracken  in  great  abundance.  People 
named  Slack  occupied  the  place ;  the  man  was  a  lame 
dwarf  who  tried  to  work  sometimes,  but  honestly 
preferred  poaching;  the  woman  went  about  in  rags 
and  begged ;  while  the  children  were  little  savages, 
kept  from  school  by  their  father,  and  trained  to 
steal  by  their  mother. 

The  Captain  refused  to  be  discouraged  when  he 
visited  the  home  of  his  ancestors  and  discovered  a 
hovel;  but  wrote  to  the  owner  for  information,  in- 


4,0  A  DRAKE  BY  GEORGE ! 

terviewed  the  vicar,  turned  up  the  registers,  and  con- 
sulted the  Yellow  Leaf. 

The  letter  was  answered  by  a  solicitor,  who  ex- 
pressed his  sorrow  at  never  having  heard  of  the 
family  of  Drake.  The  vicar  mentioned  that  the 
name  Anchor  occurred  frequently  in  the  neighbour- 
hood, and  was  undoubtedly  a  corruption  of  An- 
choret, which  signified  a  person  who  sought  right- 
eousness by  retiring  from  a  world  of  sin.  He  con- 
sidered it  probable  that  the  site  had  been  occupied 
formerly  by  the  cell  of  a  hermit  who  had  dis- 
tinguished himself  by  wearing  a  black  cloak. 

Although  the  Captain  gave  days  and  nights  to  the 
registers,  he  could  find  no  entry  concerning  his  fam- 
ily, of  whom  most,  he  was  convinced,  had  been  lost 
at  sea,  apart  from  the  funeral  of  Amelia  Dr.ake. 
The  Yellow  Leaf,  after  remaining  some  days  in  a 
state  of  meditation,  distinctly  recalled  a  tradition 
concerning  a  lady  (the  Captain  thanked  him  for 
the  lady)  who  had  lived  alone  at  Black  Anchor 
Farm  for  a  number  of  years,  receiving  no  visitors, 
and  leaving  the  place  only  to  obtain  fresh  supplies 
of  liquid  consolation.  The  end  of  her  history  was 
so  unpleasant  he  did  not  care  to  dwell  upon  it,  but 
apparently  this  lady  was  discovered  at  last  ready 
for  her  funeral,  and  according  to  report  it  was  a 
pity  she  had  not  been  discovered  earlier. 

Still  the  Captain  refused  to  be  discouraged.     His 


THE  CAPTAIN  MAKES  HISTORY     41 

nobility  of  character  would  not  permit  him  to  dis- 
own the  memory  of  his  great-grandmother,  although 
he  thought  it  terribly  sad  she  should  have  sunk  so 
low.  If  she,  during  recurring  fits  of  temporary  in- 
sanity, had  disgraced  the  great  name,  he  had  added 
lustre  to  it.  If  the  former  country  residence  of  Sir 
Francis  Drake  had  fallen  into  a  ruinous  condition,  it 
should  be  his  privilege  to  restore  it  with  a  few  magic 
touches  of  the  pen.  He  resolved  to  devote  the  re- 
maining years  of  his  life  to  the  writing  of  A  His- 
tory of  the  Parish  of  Highfield. 

"  The  vicar  was  not  altogether  mistaken,  my 
love,"  he  remarked  to  Mrs.  Drake.  "  He  associates 
the  name  of  Black  Anchor  with  a  hermit  who  wore 
a  dark-coloured  vestment  of  some  description,  and 
no  doubt  he  is  right.  My  unfortunate  great-grand- 
mother did  live  there  entirely  alone,  and  would  na- 
turally be  regarded  as  a  hermit  by  the  superstitious 
people  of  this  parish.  And  we  need  not  be  sur- 
prised to  discover  that  she  always  wore  black  — 
silk  or  velvet,  I  presume  —  the  last  poor  remnants 
of  her  former  greatness.  It  is  an  established  fact, 
I  believe,  that  elderly  ladies  generally  wear  black." 

As  a  compiler  of  history  the  Captain  was  in  many 
ways  well  equipped.  He  wrote  rapidly,  which  was 
of  great  importance,  because  the  least  relevant  chap- 
ter in  the  life  of  a  parish  required  a  vast  number 
of  words.  He  possessed  a  gift  of  making  the  past 


42  A  DRAKE  BY  GEORGE! 

real  because  he  owned  a  powerful  imagination. 
While  confidence  in  his  own  abilities  freed  him  from 
a  slavish  adherence  to  facts  which  could  serve  no 
useful  purpose.  Realising  the  importance  of  con- 
centrating upon  some  particular  feature,  in  order 
that  the  narrative  might  be  made  continuous,  he  had 
not  the  slightest  difficulty  in  selecting  that  feature. 
The  keynote  of  the  entire  work  was  sounded  by  the 
opening  sentence: 

"Although  the  Parish  of  Highfield  is  but  little 
known  to  Englishmen,  and  occupies  an  extremely 
small  portion  of  the  map,  being  entirely  excluded 
from  the  standard  Atlas  used  in  schools  —  in  our 
opinion  unjustifiably  —  it  must  nevertheless  re- 
main for  ever  famous  on  account  of  its  associations 
with  the  sublime  name  of  Drake." 

The  opening  chapter  dealt  with  the  destruction  of 
the  Spanish  Armada.  The  second  gave  an  account 
of  the  arrival  of  Sir  Francis  Drake  in  Highfield 
parish,  fully  describing  his  purchase  of  a  site  and 
the  erection  of  a  stately  manor-house,  of  which  un- 
fortunately nothing  remained  except  a  few  frag- 
ments "  fraught  with  sweet  Elizabethan  memories." 
The  site  was  still  known  as  Black  Anchor,  which 
was  undoubtedly  the  name  conferred  by  the  great 
Admiral  upon  his  country  residence,  because  he  re- 
garded it  as  a  place  to  which  he  could  retire  from 
the  world,  where  he  could  muse  amid  the  solitude  of 


THE  CAPTAIN  MAKES  HISTORY     43 

nature,  where  he  could  rest,  or,  in  the  phrase  of  the 
seaman,  "  cast  his  anchor."  It  was  here  that  Queen 
Elizabeth  visited  him,  and,  according  to  some  au- 
thorities who  seemed  to  deserve  serious  attention,  it 
was  here,  and  not  in  London,  that  the  Queen  con- 
ferred the  honour  of  knighthood  upon  this  magnifi- 
cent bulwark  of  her  throne. 

The  third  chapter  was  devoted  entirely  to  the 
royal  visit,  concerning  which  tradition  was  happily 
not  silent.  It  was  indeed  a  simple  matter  to  follow 
the  Queen's  progress  towards  its  culminating  point, 
which  was  unquestionably  Highfield  Manor,  as  Black 
Anchor  Farm  was  known  in  those  days,  through  the 
adjoining  parishes,  all  possessing  manors  of  which 
some  had  survived  to  the  present  time,  but  most  had 
fallen  down,  at  each  of  which  the  royal  lady  had 
enjoyed  a  few  hours'  slumber. 

Several  pages  were  allotted  to  this  habit  of  Eliza- 
beth, who  was  apparently  unable  to  travel  more  than 
five  miles  without  going  to  bed;  and  in  these  the 
author  sought  to  prove  the  existence  of  some  malady, 
a  kind  of  travelling  sickness,  no  doubt  exaggerated 
by  the  roughness  of  the  roads  and  constant  jolting 
of  the  coach,  so  that  the  physician  in  attendance 
felt  himself  compelled  to  advise  his  royal  mistress 
to  sleep  at  every  village  through  which  she  passed. 

The  peculiarities  of  monarchs,  remarked  the  au- 
thor, are  more  conspicuous  than  the  virtues  or  vices 


44.  A  DRAKE-  BY  GEORGE! 

of  ordinary  people.  The  nervousness  of  King 
Charles  the  Second  was  no  less  remarkable  than 
Queen  Elizabeth's  recurring  fits  of  somnolence:  he 
was  continually  retiring  into  cupboards,  standing 
behind  doors,  or  climbing  into  oak  trees,  owing  to  a 
morbid  dread  of  being  looked  at.  King  Charles  had 
secreted  himself  inside  a  cupboard  within  the  bound- 
aries of  Highfield  parish,  but  this  was  not  to  be  re- 
garded as  a  coincidence,  for  a  patient  inquiry  into 
local  traditions  elicited  the  fact  that,  wherever  Queen 
Elizabeth  had  slept  in  the  best  bed  of  the  manor- 
house,  King  Charles  had  climbed  a  tree  (usually  the 
common  oak,  Quercus  robur)  in  the  garden.  As  the 
writer  was  dealing  with  the  parish  of  Highfield  only, 
it  would  be  outside  the  scope  of  his  work  to  give  a 
list  of  villages,  in  Devonshire  alone,  which  claimed 
to  possess  pillows  upon  which  Elizabeth  had  deigned 
to  rest  her  weary  head;  but  he  was  satisfied  that 
the  Highfield  pillow  had  been  stored  away  in  pre- 
cisely the  same  cupboard  used  by  Charles  during  one 
of  his  secretive  moments.  Both  these  interesting 
relics  had  been  destroyed,  as  was  customary,  by  fire. 
The  fourth  chapter  flourished  the  Drake  pedigree, 
copied  from  the  original  document  in  the  author's 
possession;  and  went  on  to  give  a  pathetic  account 
of  Amelia,  the  lonely  and  eccentric  lady  who  was  the 
last  representative  of  the  famous  family  to  reside  at 
Highfield  Manor.  Three  facts  concerning  her  could 


THE  CAPTAIN  MAKES  HISTORY     45 

be  stated  with  certainty:  she  was  of  a  singularly 
retiring  nature,  she  was  accustomed  to  wear  a  black 
silk  dress  upon  all  occasions,  and  she  was  murdered 
by  some  unknown  ruffian  for  the  sake  of  certain 
valuable  heirlooms  she  was  known  to  possess.  It 
appeared  probable  that  she  was  a  poetess  as,  accord- 
ing to  local  tradition,  she  could  frequently  be  heard 
singing;  while  her  fondness  for  cats,  a  weakness 
which  had  descended  to  her  grand-grandson,  was  a 
clearly  marked  feature  of  her  character. 

The  fifth  chapter  was  a  triumph  of  literary  and 
artistic  handiwork.  Even  Mrs.  Drake,  who  did  not 
approve  of  the  undertaking  because  she  had  to  meet 
the  expenses  of  publication,  felt  bound  to  admit  that, 
if  William  had  not  chosen  to  become  a  great  sea- 
captain,  a  certain  other  William,  who  had  written 
plays  for  a  living,  might  conceivably  have  been  top- 
pled from  his  eminence ;  for  nothing  could  have  been 
more  thrilling  than  the  story  of  a  family  vault, 
"  filled  with  the  bones  and  memories  of  the  greatest 
centuries  in  British  history,"  becoming  first  neg- 
lected, then  forgotten,  and  finally  overgrown  by 
brambles  and  nettles :  a  vault,  let  the  reader  remem- 
ber, not  containing  rude  forefathers  of  the  hamlet, 
but  members  of  the  family  of  Drake;  a  vault,  not 
situated  in  the  Ethiopian  desert,  nor  abandoned 
within  some  Abyssinian  jungle,  but  built  beneath  the 
turf  of  an  English  churchyard  hard  by  a  simple 


46  A  DRAKE  BY  GEORGE ! 

country  Bethel.  This  vault  became  entirely  lost! 
Summer  followed  spring,  autumn  preceded  winter, 
year  after  year,  while  the  nettles  increased,  and  the 
brambles  encroached  yet  more  upon  the  consecrated 
ground,  until  the  very  site  of  the  famous  vault  was 
lost  to  sight  —  this  sentence  being  the  one  literary 
flaw  upon  an  otherwise  perfect  chapter  —  and  the 
oldest  inhabitant  had  ceased  to  tell  of  its  exist- 
ence. 

Here  the  History  of  the  Parish  of  Highfield  was 
interrupted  by  some  chapters  dealing  with  the  birth, 
education,  early  struggles,  voyages,  adventures,  suc- 
cess, and  retirement  of  Captain  Francis  Drake;  to- 
gether with  an  account  of  Mrs.  Drake  and  her  re- 
lations ;  with  a  flattering  notice  of  George  Drake, 
Esquire,  who  was  later  to  win  renown  as  the  ex- 
plorer of  Highfield  churchyard  and  the  discoverer 
of  the  long-missing  vault.  It  was  shown  also  how 
the  Captain  had  been  guided  by  Providence  to  the 
village,  formerly  the  home  of  his  ancestors,  and  how 
"  the  lure  of  the  place  had  been  nothing  but  the 
silver  cord  of  an  hereditary  attraction  stretched 
through  the  centuries  to  reach  the  golden  bowl  of 
his  soul."  Mrs.  Drake  objected  to  this  sentence, 
and  the  printer  made  still  stranger  stuff  of  it ;  but 
George  upheld  his  uncle's  contention  that  poetical 
prose  could  not  be  out  of  place  in  a  work  dealing 
with  the  origin  and  progress  of  a  wayside  village. 


THE  CAPTAIN  MAKES  HISTORY     47 

At  this  point  the  author  interpolated,  by  means  of 
footnotes,  a  few  remarks,  which  he  owned  were  un- 
connected with  the  purport  of  his  work:  Domes- 
day Book  alluded  to  Highfield  in  one  deplorably  curt 
sentence;  the  church  contained  nothing  of  interest; 
an  oak  tree,  which  had  formerly  shaded  the  village 
green,  no  longer  existed ;  the  views  were  local,  charm- 
ing, and  full  of  variety ;  the  streams  contained  fish ; 
botanists  would  discover  furze  and  heather  upon  the 
adjacent  moorland;  the  name  of  the  place  was  de- 
rived probably  from  two  Anglo-Saxon  words  which 
signified  a  field  standing  in  a  high  place. 

The  author  arrived  at  that  fateful  day  when 
George,  led  by  his  interest  in  arboriculture  to  inspect 
a  magnificent  specimen  of  sycamore  upon  the  south 
side  of  the  churchyard,  found  his  progress  checked 
by  tangled  growths  which,  to  the  eternal  disgrace 
of  the  parish,  had  been  permitted  to  conceal  "  the 
precious  memorial  and  cradle  of  British  supremacy 
upon  the  main."  Mrs.  Drake  opposed  this  sen- 
tence still  more  strongly,  but  the  Captain  pleaded  in- 
spiration and  retained  it. 

There  followed  a  stirring  account  of  "  the  wave 
of  indignation  that  burnt  with  its  hot  iron  the  souls 
of  the  villagers,  when  their  attention  had  been  drawn 
to  a  state  of  neglect  which  threatened  to  deprive 
them  of  the  obvious  benefits  of  their  own  burying- 
ground,  and  was  rapidly  making  it  impossible  for 


48  A  DRAKE  BY  GEORGE ! 

the  mourner  to  drop  the  scalding  tear  or  the  fragrant 
flower  upon  the  sepulchre  of  some  dear  lost  one." 
A  vivid  page  described  the  destruction  of  brambles 
and  nettles,  the  removal  of  five  cart-loads,  the  sub- 
sequent bonfire  in  which  "  these  emblems  of  Thor  and 
Woden  melted  into  flame  and  were  dissipated  into 
diaphanous  smoke-clouds." 

The  style  unfortunately  became  confused  when 
the  author  dealt  at  length  with  the  actual  Discovery, 
and  represented  himself  as  head  of  the  family  kneel- 
ing in  humble  thankfulness  beside  the  mouldering 
stone  marking  the  hallowed  spot  where  Drakes  lay 
buried. 

The  work  included  with  an  account  of  Windward 
House,  a  description  of  the  furniture,  a  complete  list 
of  the  antiquities,  among  which,  owing  to  a  print- 
er's error,  appeared  the  names  of  Kezia  and  Bessie; 
with  a  reference  to  the  cats,  monkeys,  parrots,  and 
giant  tortoise.  Then  Captain  Drake  lay  down  his 
pen,  put  aside  the  well-thumbed  dictionary,  and,  call- 
ing wife  and  nephew,  informed  them  solemnly,  "  The 
last  words  are  written.  I  have  rounded  off  my  ex- 
istence with  a  book." 

Nothing  much  was  said  for  some  minutes.  The 
author  was  obviously  struggling  with  emotion ;  Mrs. 
Drake  put  her  handkerchief  to  her  eyes ;  George 
smiled  in  a  nervous  fashion  and  trifled  with  the  cop- 
pers in  both  pockets.  Kezia  and  Bessie  were  called 


THE  CAPTAIN  MAKES  HISTORY     49 

in  and  the  news  was  broken  to  them:  the  Parish  of 
Highfield  now  possessed  a  history. 

"  This,"  said  the  Captain  gently,  "  is  one  of  the 
great  moments  in  the  thrilling  record  of  a  most  dis- 
tinguished family.  I  feel  as  the  sublime  founder 
must  have  done  while  standing  with  wooden  bowl  in 
his  hand  gazing  across  the  sparkling  sea."  Then 
he  murmured  brokenly,  "  Heaven  bless  you  all,"  and 
stumbled  from  the  room. 

When  the  publisher  sent  in  his  estimate,  Mrs. 
Drake  was  quite  unable  to  understand  how  a  news- 
paper could  be  sold  for  one  halfpenny.  The  lead- 
ing item,  which  was  a  charge  for  sufficient  paper  to 
print  one  thousand  copies,  came  as  a  revelation  to 
her;  for  she  had  always  supposed  that  paper,  like 
string  and  pins,  could  be  had  for  nothing.  As  the 
publisher  pressed  strongly  for  a  few  illustrations  of 
local  scenery,  the  Captain  was  compelled  to  sacri- 
fice, for  economical  reasons,  three  chapters  of  his 
voyages,  together  with  the  whole  of  his  valuable  foot*- 
notes.  When  George  suggested  that  the  history  of 
the  parish  itself  did  not  appear  to  be  treated  with 
that  fullness  the  Captain  was  capable  of  giving  it, 
the  old  gentleman  replied,  "  What  we  lose  in  the 
letterpress  we'll  make  up  by  the  pictures.  I  quite 
agree  with  the  printer,  my  lad:  the  beauty  and  dig- 
nity of  my  work  will  be  enhanced  considerably  by  the 
addition  of  a  few  engravings." 


50  A  DRAKE  BY  GEORGE! 

Six  photographs  were  therefore  taken  exclusively 
for  this  volume,  by  the  son  of  the  post-mistress  who 
was  an  expert  with  the  camera ;  and  reproduced  by 
the  usual  special  process  upon  a  particularly  val- 
uable kind  of  Oriental  paper.  The  frontispiece  rep- 
resented Captain  Francis  Drake  in  a  characteristic 
attitude.  The  five  other  illustrations  depicted 
Windward  House  from  the  southeast;  present  day 
aspect  of  Black  Anchor  Farm ;  George  Drake,  Es- 
quire, discoverer  of  the  missing  vault ;  stone  marking 
site  of  vault  and  bearing  the  name  of  Amelia  Drake ; 
and  finally,  Captain  Francis  Drake  in  another  char- 
acteristic attitude,  with  Mrs.  Drake  in  the  back- 
ground. The  lady,  having  shifted  behind  her  hus- 
band during  the  moment  of  exposure,  has  disappeared 
entirely. 

Two  copies  were  sold.  The  vicar  bought  one  out 
of  a  sense  of  duty,  while  the  Dismal  Gibcat  pur- 
chased the  other,  to  discover  whether  there  was  any- 
thing in  it  which  would  justify  him  in  bringing  an 
action  for  libel.  Both  were  disappointed. 


CHAPTER  IV 

CHANGES    IN    THE    ESTABLISHMENT 

ONE  doctor  had  promised  Captain  Drake 
eighteen  more  months  of  life;  another, 
less  generous,  refused  to  allow  him  more 
than  twelve;  he  presented  himself  with  ten  years, 
and  then  he  did  not  die  from  natural  causes.  The 
Dismal  Gibcat  had  his  revenge  at  last.  He  mur- 
dered Captain  Drake  before  the  eyes  of  the  village, 
in  the  full  light  of  two  oil  lamps ;  and,  instead  of 
being  hanged  for  it,  he  stepped  into  the  dead  man's 
place,  and  ruled  the  parish  with  his  scowl  as  he  had 
done  in  the  good  old  days  when  a  pair  of  old  cot- 
tages had  occupied  the  site  whereon  Windward 
House  now  stood;  although  he  had  the  decency  to 
attend  his  victim's  funeral,  and  to  declare  he  had 
always  respected  the  Captain,  who  undoubtedly  be- 
longed to  that  class  of  mortals,  none  of  whom  are 
ever  likely  to  be  seen  again. 

War  for  a  right  of  way  led  up  to  the  murder. 
The  Dismal  Gibcat  owned  a  field,  across  which  peo- 
ple had  walked  since  the  world  began,  according  to 

the  testimony  of  the  Yellow  Leaf,  who  was  the  final 

51 


52  A  DRAKE  BY  GEORGE! 

court  of  appeal  in  all  such  matters.  When  a  stone 
coffin  was  disinterred,  or  a  few  Roman  coins  were 
turned  up,  the  Yellow  Leaf  was  invariably  sum- 
moned to  decide  the  question  of  ownership.  He 
might  confers  that  the  stone  coffin  had  been  made 
before  his  time,  although  he  would  give  the  name  of 
the  mason,  and  narrate  a  few  anecdotes  concerning 
the  eccentric  parishioner  who  had  preferred  this 
method  of  burial.  While  he  would  possess  a  clear 
recollection  of  the  thriftless  farmer  who  had  dropped 
the  money  while  ploughing  through  a  hole  in  his 
pocket.  The  Yellow  Leaf  declared  he  had  crossed 
that  field  thousands  of  times  when  he  was  a  mere 
bud,  and  went  on  to  state  that,  if  the  people  allowed 
the  Dismal  Gibcat  to  triumph  over  them,  they  would 
find  themselves  back  in  the  dark  ages,  bereft  of  all 
the  privileges  which  Magna  Charta,  the  post-office, 
and  Captain  Drake  had  obtained  for  them. 

The  Dismal  Gibcat  began  by  ploughing  the  field 
and  planting  it  with  potatoes.  Then  he  lay  in  wait 
for  the  first  trespasser,  who  chanced  to  be  the  vicar 
on  his  way  to  baptise  a  sick  baby.  Undismayed  by 
the  importance  of  his  capture,  the  Dismal  Gibcat  in- 
formed the  vicar  he  was  committing  an  unfriendly 
act  by  trespassing  across  his  vested  property. 

The  vicar,  with  some  warmth,  asserted  there  was 
a  path.  The  Dismal  Gibcat,  with  exceeding  chill- 
ness,  replied  that  a  man  who  had  received  his  educa- 


CHANGES  IN  THE  ESTABLISHMENT      53 

tion  at  a  public  school  and  an  ancient  university 
ought  to  be  able  to  distinguish  between  tilled  land 
and  thoroughfare. 

The  vicar  declared  that,  if  there  was  at  the  mo- 
ment no  path,  it  could  only  be  because  the  Dismal 
Gibcat  had  maliciously  removed  it,  although  he  did 
not  use  the  word  maliciously  in  an  offensive  manner. 
The  Dismal  Gibcat  replied  that,  as  there  was  no 
path,  the  vicar  could  not  walk  along  it ;  and,  as  he 
was  obviously  trying  to  make  one  —  with  a  pair  of 
boots  quite  suitable  for  the  purpose  —  he  was  com- 
mitting an  act  of  trespass,  and  by  the  law  of  Eng- 
land a  trespasser  might  be  removed  by  force. 

The  vicar  explained  that  he  could  not  stay  to 
argue  the  matter  lest,  while  they  were  quarrelling, 
the  poor  little  baby  should  become  an  unbaptised 
spirit.  The  Dismal  Gibcat  declared  that  his  vested 
rights  were  more  to  him  than  baptised  babies,  and 
ordered  the  vicar  to  get  off  his  potatoes  by  the  way 
he  had  come. 

Finally  the  vicar  abandoned  a  portion  of  his  Chris- 
tianity and  threatened  to  hit  the  Dismal  Gibcat  upon 
the  head  with  his  toy  font. 

Civil  war  having  thus  broken  out,  the  entire  popu- 
lation of  military  age,  headed  by  Captain  Drake  and 
the  Yellow  Leaf,  promenaded  across  the  field  and 
trampled  out  a  new  pathway.  The  Dismal  Gibcat 
replied  by  putting  up  barbed-wire  entanglements. 


54  A  DRAKE  BY  GEORGE ! 

Then  the  Captain  called  a  meeting  of  the  Parish 
Council,  to  be  held  at  seven-thirty  in  the  school- 
room; little  dreaming,  when  he  set  out  a  few  min- 
utes after  eight  to  take  the  chair,  that  he  was  about 
to  perform  his  last  public  duty. 

The  Dismal  Gibcat  attended  the  meeting  without 
any  idea  of  doing  murder :  he  brought  no  weapon  ex- 
cept his  scowl,  which  was  possibly  a  birthmark,  and 
a  tongue  which  disagreed  with  everybody  out  of  prin- 
ciple. He  presented  his  case  to  the  meeting  and 
asked  for  justice.  The  chairman  promised  he  should 
have  it,  and  went  on  to  inquire  whether  the  Dismal 
Gibcat  would  give  an  undertaking  to  remove  the  en- 
tanglements and  allow  the  public  to  make  free  use  of 
the  pathway. 

The  Dismal  Gibcat  replied  that,  by  so  doing,  he 
would  be  committing  an  injustice  which  must  fall 
most  heavily  upon  all  those  of  his  dismal  blood  who 
might  come  after  him. 

"  Then,  sir,"  the  chairman  cried  in  his  most  tre- 
mendous voice,  "  the  matter  must  pass  from  our 
hands  into  those  of  a  higher  tribunal.  We  shall  ap- 
peal to  the  District  Council,  and  that  body  will,  if 
necessary,  carry  the  case  further,  even  to  the  Court 
of  County  Council  itself." 

Silence  followed,  during  which  every  parishioner 
save  one  in  that  crowded  schoolroom  felt  thankful 
Highfield  had  a  leader  capable  of  carrying  their 


CHANGES  IN  THE  ESTABLISHMENT      55 

grievances  to  the  foot  of  the  Throne  if  necessary. 
About  the  District  Council  little  was  known,  beyond 
the  fact  that  it  had  never  yet  interfered  in  any  paro- 
chial affairs ;  while  the  Dumpy  Philosopher  seemed 
to  be  the  only  person  primed  with  information  con- 
cerning the  County  Council. 

"  It  make  roads  and  builds  asylums,"  he  explained. 
"  The  gentlemen  what  belong  to  it  are  called  Es- 
quire; and  they'm  mostly  in  Parliament." 

The  Dismal  Gibcat  had  the  wickedness  to  declare 
that  he  defied  all  Councils.  There  never  had  been  a 
right  of  way  across  his  field,  and  there  never  should 
be.  Out  of  simple  goodness  of  heart  he  had  re- 
frained from  interfering  with  the  homeward  prog- 
ress of  a  few  weary  labourers,  although  they  had  not 
asked  permission  to  trample  down  his  pasture;  and 
now  he  was  to  be  rewarded  for  this  mistaken  kind- 
ness by  having  a  strip  of  territory  snatched  from 
him  by  a  person  —  a  fat,  vulgar  person  —  one  he 
was  sorry  to  call  an  Englishman  —  whom  they  had 
been  foolish  enough  to  elect  as  their  chairman  —  a 
man  who  had  written  a  book  about  himself  —  a 
common  creature  who  claimed  to  be  a  descendant  of 
Sir  Francis  Drake  —  a  man  who  styled  himself  Cap- 
tain because  he  had  once  stolen  a  fishing-boat  —  a 
coarse  bullying  brute  of  a  gasbag. 

The  chairman  had  been  struggling  to  find  breath 
for  some  moments.  At  last  he  found  it,  and  re- 


56  A  DRAKE  BY  GEORGE! 

leased  such  thunders  as  had  never  been  heard  before. 
Even  the  Dismal  Gibcat  quailed  before  the  volume 
of  that  tempest,  while  a  few  nervous  parishioners 
left  the  schoolroom  with  a  dazed  look  upon  their 
faces.  George  detached  himself  from  the  wall  and 
implored  his  uncle  to  be  calm,  but  his  words  of 
warning  were  lost  in  that  great  tumult.  The  shock- 
ing nature  of  the  scene  was  considerably  enhanced 
by  the  fact  that  the  Dismal  Gibcat,  for  the  first 
time  within  living  memory,  actually  tried  to  smile. 

"A  right  of  way  has  existed  time  out  of  mind 
across  that  field.  Sir  Francis  Drake  and  Queen 
Elizabeth  walked  there  arm  in  arm,"  the  Captain 
shouted,  magnanimously  ignoring  the  insults,  and 
fighting  for  the  people  to  his  last  gasp. 

"  Path  warn't  hardly  wide  enough,  Captain,"  piped 
the  Yellow  Leaf,  who  was  for  accuracy  at  any  price. 

"  I  tell  the  chairman  to  his  face  he's  a  liar.  He 
has  never  spoken  a  word  of  truth  since  he  came  to 
Highfield,"  cried  the  Dismal  Gibcat. 

Again  the  Captain  opened  his  mouth,  but  no 
sounds  came.  He  stretched  out  an  arm,  tried  to 
leave  the  chair,  then  gasped,  fell  against  George, 
and  bore  him  to  the  floor.  The  leader  of  the  peo- 
ple, the  great  reformer,  the  defender  of  liberty,  lay 
motionless  beneath  the  map  of  the  British  Empire 
like  Caesar  at  the  foot  of  Pompey's  statue;  mur- 
dered by  the  Dismal  Gibcat's  smile  in  the  village 


CHANGES  IN  THE  ESTABLISHMENT      57 

schoolroom,  upon  the  fifth  of  April,  in  the  seventy- 
fourth  year  of  his  age. 

At  the  inquest  it  was  shown  by  one  of  the  dis- 
credited doctors  that  his  heart  had  really  given  way 
a  long  time  ago,  and  nothing  but  indomitable  cour- 
age had  preserved  him  in  a  state  of  nominal  exist- 
ence: he  sought  to  impress  it  upon  the  jury  that 
the  Captain,  from  a  medical  point  of  view,  had  been 
a  dead  man  for  the  last  ten  years ;  but,  as  everybody 
knew,  this  statement  was  made  by  an  arrangement 
with  the  coroner  to  prevent  a  verdict  of  wilful  mur- 
der against  the  Gibcat. 

"  'Tis  like  this  right  o'  way  business,"  commented 
Squinting  Jack.  "  He  ploughs  up  the  path  and 
ses  us  can't  walk  there  because  there  arn't  no  path. 
And  doctor  ses  as  how  the  Captain  wur  a  corpse 
when  he  come  to  the  meeting,  and  you  can't  kill  a 
man  what  be  dead  and  gone  already." 

The  Dismal  Gibcat  did  all  that  was  possible  to 
atone  for  his  crime.  He  sent  a  wreath;  he  did  not 
smile  again ;  and  in  the  handsomest  possible  manner 
he  removed  the  barbed-wire  entanglements,  and  dedi- 
cated a  right  of  way  across  his  field  to  the  public 
for  ever,  as  a  memorial  to  the  late  Captain,  whose 
life  would  remain  as  an  example  to  them  of  truth, 
and  modesty,  and  childlike  gentleness. 

Highfield  ceased  to  progress  when  the  Captain  had 
departed.  The  historian  would  have  found  no  deed 


58  A  DRAKE  BY  GEORGE! 

to  chronicle,  although  he  could  hardly  have  omitted 
the  brilliant  epigram,  attributed  to  the  Dumpy  Phi- 
losopher, "  Captain  put  us  on  the  map,  and  now 
we'm  blotted  out."  Local  improvements  were  no 
longer  spoken  of.  Mrs.  Drake  continued  to  live  in 
Highfield,  although  she  took  no  part  in  public  af- 
fairs, and  immediately  removed  the  notice-boards 
which  she  had  never  much  approved  of.  George  re- 
sumed his  disgraceful  habits  of  loafing  in  fine 
weather,  and  keeping  the  house  clear  of  flies  when 
it  rained.  His  aunt  disowned  him  once  a  week,  but 
he  bore  up  bravely.  She  threatened  to  turn  him 
out  of  the  house  every  month,  but  the  courageous 
fellow  declared  he  should  not  be  ashamed  to  beg  hos- 
pitality of  the  vicar  who  had  loved  and  reverenced 
his  dear  uncle.  George  explained  that  he  was  lead- 
ing a  singularly  industrious  career,  but  it  had  al- 
ways been  his  way  to  work  unobstrusively :  he  fed 
the  giant  tortoise,  controlled  the  monkeys,  taught 
the  parrots  to  open  their  beaks  in  proverbs ;  he  at- 
tended all  meetings  of  the  Parish  Council;  some- 
times he  sneered  at  the  Dismal  Gibcat.  Above  all, 
he  managed  the  cat-breeding  industry,  although  it 
was  true  he  had  at  the  present  time  no  more  than 
six  cats  in  stock. 

"  That's  because  you  have  been  too  lazy  to  look 
after  them,"  Mrs.  Drake  interrupted.  "  You  let 
them  out  to  roam  all  over  the  place ;  dozens  have 


CHANGES  IN  THE  ESTABLISHMENT      59 

been  shot  or  trapped;  while  the  others  have  made 
friends  with  common  village  cats.  You  know  how 
particular  your  uncle  was  about  the  company  they 
kept." 

"  I'm  expecting  kittens  soon,  and  I'll  take  great 
care  of  them,"  George  promised. 

"  Your  uncle  used  to  make  a  lot  out  of  his  cats 
before  we  came  here.  You  do  nothing  except  ask 
for  money  to  buy  them  food,  which  you  don't  give 
them.  If  it  wasn't  for  Kezia  the  poor  creatures 
would  be  starved,"  said  Mrs.  Drake. 

She  realised  that  the  only  way  of  ridding  herself 
of  George  would  be  to  regard  him  as  a  lost  soul 
haunting  Windward  House,  and  to  destroy  the  place 
utterly;  as  she  could  not  afford  to  do  that,  an  idea 
occurred  of  inviting  an  elderly  maiden  sister  to 
share  her  home.  Miss  Yard  replied  that  the  plan 
would  suit  her  admirably.  So  Mrs.  Drake  broke 
the  news  to  Kezia,  who  had  become  a  person  of  con- 
sequence, accustomed  to  a  seat  in  the  parlour;  and 
Kezia  told  Bessie  she  was  going  to  allow  Mrs. 
Drake's  sister  to  live  in  the  house  for  a  time;  and 
Bessie  went  to  her  mistress  and  gave  notice. 

"  You  don't  mean  it,"  stammered  the  astonished 
lady.  "  Why,  Bessie,  you  have  been  with  me  fifteen 
years." 

"  Kezia  ses  Miss  Yard's  coming  here,  so  I  made 
up  my  mind  all  to  once." 


60  A  DRAKE  BY  GEORGE! 

"  I  don't  know  what  I  shall  do  without  you, 
Bessie." 

"  You  can't  do  without  me,  mum.  I'm  not  going 
exactly  ever  to  leave  you.  I'll  just  change  my 
name,  and  go  across  the  road,  and  drop  in  when 
I'm  wanted." 

"  You  are  going  to  be  married ! "  cried  Mrs. 
Drake. 

"  That's  right,  mum.  May  as  well  do  it  now  as 
wait." 

"  I  hope  you  have  stopped  growing,"  said  the  lady 
absently. 

"  I  don't  seem  to  be  making  any  progress  now, 
mum.  Six  foot  two,  and  Robert's  five  foot  three,  and 
has  taken  the  cottage  opposite.  Robert  Mudge,  the 
baker's  assistant,  mum.  He  makes  the  doughnuts 
master  wur  so  fond  of  vor  his  tea." 

"  I  remember  the  doughnuts,"  said  Mrs.  Drake 
softly.  "  I  used  to  put  out  two,  but  the  dear  Cap- 
tain would  not  content  himself  with  less  than  half  a 
dozen." 

"  He  told  Bob  to  exhibit  his  doughnuts.  Master 
said  he  would  get  a  gold  medal  vor  'em.  But  he 
can't  find  out  where  the  exhibition  is." 

"  I  hope  Robert  Mudge  is  worthy  of  you,  Bessie." 

"  He  ses  he  is,  mum.  He  goes  to  chapel  in  the 
morning,  and  church  in  the  evening,  and  he  never 


CHANGES  IN  THE  ESTABLISHMENT     61 

touches  a  drop  of  anything.  And  he  keeps  bees, 
mum." 

"  It  all  sounds  very  nice.  I  hope  you  will  be  as 
happy  as  I  have  been,"  said  Mrs.  Drake. 

"  Thankye,  mum.  I  wouldn't  get  married  if  it 
meant  leaving  you ;  but  now  that  Miss  Yard's  coming 
here  I  may  as  well  go  to  Robert.  Just  across  the 
road,  mum.  If  you  ring  a  bell  at  the  window  I'll  be 
over  in  no  time  —  if  I  b'ain't  here  already,  mum." 

"  You  have  always  been  a  handy  girl,  Bessie.  The 
dear  Captain  had  a  very  high  opinion  of  you,  but  he 
was  so  afraid  you  might  not  be  able  to  stop  grow- 
ing." 

"  Thankye,  mum.  Bob  ses  'tis  his  one  ambition 
to  get  great  like  the  Captain ;  not  quite  so  big,  mum, 
but  like  him  in  heart;  at  least,  mum,  as  gude  in 
heart.  I  don't  know,  mum,  whether  you  would  be 
thinking  of  giving  me  a  wedding  present?  " 

"  Of  course  I  shall  give  you  a  present,  Bessie." 

"  Well,  mum,  me  and  Robert  think,  if  'tis  con- 
venient to  you,  furniture  would  be  most  useful  to 
us." 

"  You  shall  have  some  of  Captain  Drake's  furni- 
ture ;  and  you  shall  have  more  when  I  am  gone,"  the 
old  lady  promised. 

Bessie  married  Robert  Mudge  a  month  later. 
Mrs.  Drake  furnished  the  cottage ;  George  presented 


62  A  DRAKE  BY  GEORGE! 

the  bride  with  a  kitten;  while  Miss  Yard,  who  had 
not  yet  completed  her  preparations  for  departure, 
sent  a  postal-order  for  five  shillings,  together  with  a 
Bible,  a  cookery-book,  and  pair  of  bed-socks.  Kezia 
gave  the  wedding  breakfast,  and  Mrs.  Drake  paid 
for  it.  The  honeymoon,  which  lasted  from  Satur- 
day to  Monday,  was  spent  somewhere  by  the  sea. 
Then  Bessie  settled  down  to  her  new  life,  which 
meant  sleeping  upon  the  one  side  of  the  road  and 
taking  her  meals  upon  the  other. 

Miss  Yard  was  a  gentle  old  creature  who  knew 
nothing  whatever  about  a  world  she  had  never  really 
lived  in.  For  nearly  half  a  century  she  occupied  a 
little  house  just  outside  the  little  town  of  Drivel- 
ford;  during  weekdays  she  would  scratch  about  in  a 
little  garden,  and  twice  each  Sunday  attend  a  little 
church,  and  about  four  times  in  the  course  of  the 
year  would  give  a  little  tea-party  to  ladies  much  en- 
grossed in  charity.  Sometimes  she  would  go  for  a 
little  walk,  but  the  big  world  worried  her,  and  she 
was  glad  to  get  back  into  her  garden.  It  must  have 
been  rather  a  mazy  garden,  as  she  was  continually 
getting  lost  in  it;  having  very  little  memory  she 
could  not  easily  hit  upon  the  right  pathway  to  the 
house,  and  would  circle  round  the  gooseberry-bushes 
until  a  servant  discovered  her.  One  awful  day  she 
lost  her  servant,  luggage,  memory,  and  herself  at 
a  railway  junction ;  and  was  finally  consigned  to  the 


CHANGES  IN  THE  ESTABLISHMENT      63 

station-master,  who  was  not  an  intelligent  individual ; 
for,  when  Miss  Yard  assured  him  she  was  on  her  way 
to  the  seaside,  he  was  quite  unable  to  direct  her. 
Nobody  knew  how  that  adventure  ended,  because 
Miss  Yard  could  not  remember. 

She  accepted  her  sister's  invitation  gladly,  be- 
cause a  letter  came  frequently  from  the  bank  to  in- 
form her  she  had  overdrawn  her  account.  Miss 
Yard  did  not  know  much  about  wickedness,  there- 
fore when  a  servant  told  her  it  was  time  for  a  cheque 
she  always  smiled  and  signed  one.  She  could  not 
understand  why  no  servant  would  stay  with  her  more 
than  a  few  years ;  but,  being  a  kind-hearted  old  soul, 
she  was  delighted  to  know  one  was  going  to  marry 
a  gentleman,  another  to  open  a  drapery,  and  a  third 
to  retire  altogether.  It  was  not  until  she  engaged 
a  rather  shy  little  orphan,  whose  name  of  Nellie 
Blisland  was  good  enough  to  tempt  anybody,  as  a 
lady-servant-companion-housekeeper,  that  the  bank 
stopped  writing  to  her ;  and  then  Miss  Yard,  who 
comprehended  a  pass-book  with  some  assistance,  won- 
dered who  had  been  leaving  her  money ;  and  at  last 
arrived  at  the  conclusion  that  Nellie  was  a  niece  who 
was  living  with  her  and  sharing  expenses.  But  this 
discovery  was  not  made  until  Mrs.  Drake's  invita- 
tion had  been  accepted. 

Miss  Yard's  memory  underwent  all  manner  of 
shocks,  when  she  found  herself  installed  in  the  par- 


64  A  DRAKE  BY  GEORGE ! 

lour  of  Windward  House.  She  perceived  her  sister 
clearly  enough,  but  where  was  Nellie,  and  what  was 
George?  She  had  completely  forgotten  Captain 
Drake  until  she  turned  her  spectacles  towards  the 
Egyptian  mummy ;  and  then  she  asked  questions 
which  caused  Mrs.  Drake  to  use  her  smelling-salts. 

"  This  is  George,  our  nephew.  He  does  nothing 
for  a  living,"  said  the  widow  severely. 

"  Our  nephew,"  repeated  Miss  Yard,  in  her  earnest 
fashion.  "  His  name  is  Percy,  and  he  came  to  see 
me  last  year,  but  he  seems  to  have  altered  a  great 
deal.  What  is  it  he  does  for  a  living?  " 

"  Nothing  whatever,"  said  Mrs.  Drake. 

"  I've  got  a  weak  back,"  George  mumbled. 

"  He's  got  a  weak  back,  Maria.  He  must  try  red 
flannel  and  peppermint  plasters,"  said  Miss  Yard 
with  barbaric  simplicity. 

"  Stuff  and  nonsense !  He's  got  the  back  of  a 
whale,  if  he'd  only  use  it.  This  is  not  Percy,  our 
real  nephew,  who  for  some  reason  never  comes  near 
me,  but  my  nephew  by  marriage.  He's  not  your 
nephew  really." 

"  I'm  sorry  for  that.  I  like  nephews,  because 
they  visit  me  sometimes.  What's  the  name  of  this 
place,  Maria  ?  " 

"  Highfield,  and  it's  eight  hundred  feet  above  the 
sea,"  said  George,  in  a  great  hurry  to  change  the 
subject. 


CHANGES  IN  THE  ESTABLISHMENT      65 

"  I  hope  it's  somewhere  in  the  south  of  England. 
The  doctor  told  me  I  was  not  to  go  near  Yorkshire," 
said  Miss  Yard. 

"  You  are  in  Devonshire,  just  upon  the  edge  of 
Dartmoor,"  George  explained. 

"  That  sounds  as  if  it  ought  to  suit  me.  I  can't 
explain  it,  but  I  was  so  afraid  this  might  be  York- 
shire. Where  is  Nellie?  I  do  hope  she  wasn't  lost 
at  that  dreadful  railway  station." 

"  Nellie  is  upstairs,"  Mrs.  Drake  replied. 

"  I  wish  somebody  would  go  and  bring  her.  I 
don't  know  what  she  can  be  doing  upstairs.  My 
memory  is  getting  so  troublesome,  Maria.  Before 
Nellie  came  to  live  with  me  I  had  quite  forgotten  she 
was  Percy's  sister." 

"  But  she  isn't,"  said  Mrs.  Drake.  "  Percy's  only 
sister  died  as  a  child." 

"  Did  she !  "  exclaimed  Miss  Yard.  "  I  wonder 
how  long  I  shall  remember  that.  How  many  chil- 
dren did  my  brother  Peter  have  ?  " 

"  He  never  married,"  replied  Mrs.  Drake. 

"  Then  Nellie  must  be  poor  dear  Louisa's  daugh- 
ter." 

"  That  would  make  her  Percy's  sister.  Nellie  is 
your  companion.  She  is  not  even  so  much  related 
to  you  as  George." 

"  Now  I  have  quite  forgotten  who  George  was," 
said  Miss  Yard. 


66  A  DRAKE  BY  GEORGE! 

At  this  moment  Nellie  herself  appeared  with  a  load 
of  luxuries,  such  as  footstool,  shawl,  wool  slippers, 
and  various  bottles  to  sniff  at,  which  she  had  just 
unpacked.  Miss  Yard  fondled  the  girl's  hands,  and 
told  her  that  somebody  —  she  could  not  remember 
who  —  had  bees  trying  to  make  trouble  between 
them  by  spreading  a  malicious  story  about  Nellie's 
birth  and  parentage;  but  she  was  too  muddled  to 
know  what  it  meant. 

Mrs.  Drake  had  been  aware  that  her  sister's  in- 
telligence was  not  high,  but  was  dismayed  at  dis- 
covering her  mental  condition  was  so  low ;  and  she 
quickly  repented  of  the  new  arrangement,  which 
could  not  be  altered  now  that  Miss  Yard  had  dis- 
posed of  her  house  and  most  of  her  belongings ; 
bringing  just  sufficient  furniture  to  equip  a  sitting- 
room  and  bedroom,  and  to  replace  those  articles 
which  Mrs.  Drake  had  bestowed  upon  Bessie. 

Her  sister's  furniture  soon  became  a  source  of 
anxiety  to  Mrs.  Drake,  as  she  did  not  like  to  have 
things  in  the  house  which  did  not  belong  to  her,  and 
she  also  foresaw  difficulties  should  the  partnership 
be  dissolved  at  any  time  by  the  death  of  either  her 
sister  or  herself.  So  she  took  a  sheet  of  notepaper 
and  wrote  upon  it,  "  If  I  depart  before  Sophy,  all 
my  things  are  to  belong  to  her  for  her  lifetime  " ; 
and  this  document  she  placed  within  a  sandalwood 


CHANGES  IN  THE  ESTABLISHMENT     67 

box  standing  upon  the  chest  of  drawers  in  her  bed- 
room. 

Then  she  took  another  sheet  of  notepaper  and 
commanded  her  sister  to  write  upon  it,  "  If  I  die  be- 
fore Maria,  all  my  things  are  to  belong  to  her." 
Miss  Yard  obeyed,  but  when  this  piece  of  paper  had 
been  stored  away  within  the  Japanese  cabinet  stand- 
ing upon  the  chest  of  drawers  in  her  bedroom,  she 
took  a  sheet  of  notepaper  upon  her  own  account, 
and  wrote,  "  When  I  am  gone,  all  my  things  are  to 
belong  to  Nellie  " ;  and  this  was  stored  away  in  the 
bottom  drawer  of  her  devonport,  as  she  had  already 
forgotten  the  existence  of  the  other  hiding-place. 

And  this  was  the  beginning  of  the  extraordinary 
will-making  which  was  destined  to  stir  up  strife 
among  the  beneficiaries. 


CHAPTER  V 

GEORGE  TACKLES  THE  LABOUR  PROBLEM 

THE  following  summer  Percy  Taverner  vis- 
ited his  aunts.  This  gentleman,  who  was 
younger  than  George,  would  in  due  course 
inherit  the  money  left  by  the  late  Mr.  Yard  to  his 
sons  and  daughters,  of  whom  the  two  ladies  of  High- 
field  were  now  the  sole  survivors.  Therefore  Percy 
had  nothing  to  lose  by  being  uncivil,  although  as  a 
matter  of  fact  he  had  only  neglected  Mrs.  Drake 
because  he  disliked  her  husband.  His  Aunt  Sophy 
he  loved  with  good  reason,  for  he  made  a  living  by 
mortgaging  his  fruit  farm,  and  when  the  borrowed 
money  was  spent  he  had  only  to  explain  matters  to 
Miss  Yard,  and  she  would  pay  off  the  mortgage  and 
immediately  forget  all  about  it.  Percy  was  not  an 
idler  like  George,  but  he  possessed  little  business  ca- 
pacity, and  had  selected  a  form  of  occupation  about 
which  he  knew  nothing  whatever;  and  as  he  would 
be  quite  a  rich  man  when  his  aunts  departed,  he  did 
not  take  the  trouble  to  learn.  Nor  did  he  care  to 
consider  such  examples  of  longevity  as  the  giant  tor- 
toise and  the  Yellow  Leaf. 

68 


GEORGE  TACKLES  THE  PROBLEM  69 

Miss  Yard  was  delighted  to  see  Percy,  but  greatly 
distressed  when  he  declined  to  kiss  his  own  sister; 
at  least  he  was  willing,  but  Nellie  positively  refused. 
The  usual  explanations  were  gone  through,  and  the 
good  lady  tried  hard  to  understand. 

"  Of  course  you  are  right  not  to  kiss  Nellie  as 
she's  your  cousin.  Young  people  who  can  marry 
must  not  get  into  the  habit  of  kissing  each  other," 
she  said. 

Mrs.  Drake  was  inclined  to  be  chilly  towards 
Percy,  but  thawed  quickly  when  he  revealed  himself 
as  an  attentive  and  obliging  young  man.  She  was 
quite  sorry  he  had  to  sleep  across  the  road  in  Bes- 
sie's cottage  because  there  was  no  spare  room  in 
Windward  House;  and  was  almost  indignant  when 
Percy  declared  upon  the  second  day  he  could  not 
stay  until  the  end  of  the  week,  as  he  dared  not  neg- 
lect his  tomato-plants. 

"  Your  foreman  can  look  after  them,"  she  said. 
"  I  have  not  seen  you  for  years,  and  after  all  there's 
nothing  like  one's  own  relations.  It's  a  pleasure  to 
have  some  one  to  talk  to,  for  your  poor  Aunt  Sophy 
is  getting  so  stupid,  and  George  is  no  company  at 
all.  What  do  you  think  of  George?"  she  asked 
suddenly. 

"  Not  much,"  replied  Percy  with  a  laugh. 

"  I  want  to  speak  to  you  about  George,"  Mrs. 
Drake  continued.  "  You're  the  head  of  my  family, 


tO  A  DRAKE  BY  GEORGE ! 

so  I  should  like  your  advice  about  the  good-for-noth- 
ing creature.  He  is  getting  on  for  forty,  and  has 
never  done  a  day's  work  in  his  life.  He  sleeps  here, 
and  takes  his  meals,  and  grumbles,  and  begs  money 
—  and,  my  dear  Percy,  he  has  been  seen  coming  out 
of  the  public-house.  He  does  nothing  whatever. 
He  won't  even  dig  up  the  potatoes." 

"  He  knows  you  can't  leave  him  anything?  "  asked 
Percy. 

"  Of  course  he  knows  it.  He  will  have  the  furni- 
ture and  all  the  curiosities  collected  by  the  Captain ; 
I  think  that's  only  right,  and  besides,  I  promised 
my  husband  he  should  have  them.  But  the  things 
won't  be  of  much  use  if  he  hasn't  got  a  home." 

"  He  can  sell  them,"  said  Percy. 

"  Second-hand  furniture  goes  for  next  to  noth- 
ing," replied  Mrs.  Drake. 

"  That  depends,"  said  Percy.  Then  he  pointed 
to  the  mantelpiece  and  continued,  "  If  I  were  you, 
Aunt,  I  should  wrap  those  two  Chinese  vases  in  cot- 
ton-wool, and  put  them  away." 

"  Are  they  really  valuable  ?  My  dear  husband 
thought  they  were,  but  I'm  afraid  he  didn't  know 
much  about  such  things,  and  he  would  exaggerate 
sometimes.  He  used  to  say  they  were  worth  a  hun- 
dred pounds  apiece." 

"  He  was  under  the  mark,"  said  Percy.  "  I'm 
not  an  expert,  but  I  know  more  about  Chinese  vases 


GEORGE  TACKLES  THE  PROBLEM  71 

than  I  do  about  tomatoes,  as  a  friend  of  mine  deals 
in  the  things,  and  I've  picked  up  a  lot  from  him.  I 
believe  those  vases  are  worth  a  heap  of  money." 

"  Well,  that  is  a  surprise ! "  cried  Mrs.  Drake. 
"  I  shall  take  your  advice  and  pack  them  away. 
Don't  mention  it  to  George." 

"  Certainly  not,"  said  Percy,  somewhat  indig- 
nantly. 

"And  now  what  can  you  suggest?"  Mrs.  Drake 
continued,  waddling  to  the  mantelpiece  and  flicking 
a  disreputable  blow-fly  from  one  of  the  vases.  "  I 
have  told  George  plainly  a  hundred  times  he  must  do 
something  for  a  living,  but  he  won't  take  a  hint.  I 
suppose  you  wouldn't  care  to  give  him  employment? 
He  ought  to  know  something  about  fruit,  as  he 
spends  half  his  time  leaning  against  an  apple-tree." 

"  He  wouldn't  work  under  me.  Besides,  I'm  doing 
a  losing  business  as  it  is.  It's  a  jolly  difficult  prob- 
lem, Aunt." 

"  Will  you  open  his  eyes  to  his  folly  and  wicked- 
ness? If  you  can't  make  him  ashamed,  you  may  be 
able  to  frighten  him.  Tell  him,  if  he  works,  I  will 
help  him ;  but,  if  he  won't  work,  I'll  do  nothing  more 
for  him." 

"All  right,  Aunt.  I'll  shift  the  beggar,"  said 
Percy  cheerfully ;  and  he  went  out  to  search  for  his 
victim. 

George  was  reclining  upon  a  seat  which  his  uncle 


73  A  DRAKE  BY  GEORGE ! 

had  dedicated  to  the  public  for  ever,  to  commem- 
orate the  return  of  the  Drakes  to  Highfield.  When 
he  saw  the  enemy  approaching  he  closed  his  eyes ; 
for  his  cunning  nature  suggested  that  Percy  would 
respect  his  slumbers  unless  he  came  as  a  special  mes- 
senger. When  the  footsteps  ceased,  and  the  ferrule 
of  a  stick  was  pressed  gently  against  his  ribs,  George 
realised  that  a  certain  amount  of  trouble  awaited 
him. 

"  I  was  sound  asleep.  It's  a  tiring  day,  and  I've 
been  a  long  walk,"  he  explained  amiably.  "  Sit 
down,  old  chap,  and  look  at  the  view ;  but  if  you  want 
to  admire  the  sunset,  I  should  advise  you  to  go 
higher  up." 

"I  don't  want  to  admire  the  sunset,"  replied 
Percy.  "  I've  been  having  a  talk  with  Aunt 
Maria " 

"  And  I've  been  to  Black  Anchor,"  broke  in 
George.  "  I  don't  suppose  you've  read  my  uncle's 
history  of  the  parish.  It's  a  classic,  and  there  are 
nine  hundred  copies  at  home.  People  called  Slack 
were  living  there  when  we  came ;  a  regular  bad  lot 
and  a  disgrace  to  the  village." 

"  Friends  of  yours  ?  "  asked  Percy. 

"  Not  likely !  They  were  no  better  than  savages. 
The  man  hobbled  off  one  day  and  has  never  been 
seen  since,  and  the  woman  was  sent  to  prison  for 
stealing,  and  the  children  were  taken  into  a  Home. 


GEORGE  TACKLES  THE  PROBLEM  73 

The  farm  has  been  without  a  tenant  for  the  last  two 
years,  and  now  an  old  man  named  Brock  has  taken 
it." 

"  Perhaps  he  would  give  you  a  job,"  suggested 
Percy. 

"  That's  a  good  idea.  I'm  sorry  I  forgot  to  ask 
him  when  I  went  over  this  afternoon,"  said  the 
amiable  George,  perfectly  well  aware  in  which  di- 
rection the  wind  was  blowing.  "  Unluckily  the  old 
chap  hasn't  any  money.  He  cooks  the  grub  while 
his  grandson  drains  the  bogs.  Everybody's  talking 
about  it;  they  can't  get  over  the  idea  of  two  men 
running  a  farm  without  a  woman.  Sidney,  the  young 
chap,  wants  to  go  into  the  Navy,  but  he  sacrifices 
his  future  to  help  his  grandfather.  Funny  idea 
that !  Now  if  my  uncle  had  been  alive  he  would 
have  got  young  Brock  on  a  training-ship,  I  war- 
rant." 

"  Funny  idea  he  should  want  to  do  some  good  for 
his  grandfather  ?  " 

"  No ;  but  it's  queer  that  a  chap  who  wants  to  go 
into  the  Navy  should  come  to  Black  Anchor  with 
all  its  associations  of  us  Drakes,"  said  George 
loftily.  Then  he  added,  "  I'm  rested  now,  so  I'll 
take  a  stroll." 

"  Just  as  you  like.  We'll  sit  here  and  talk,  or 
we'll  stroll  and  talk,"  said  the  pestilential  Percy. 

"  Go  on  then,"  said  George  sourly. 


74  A  DRAKE  BY  GEORGE ! 

So  Percy  in  his  capacity  of  ambassador  delivered 
the  ultimatum :  Aunt  Maria  had  borne  with  her  hus- 
band's nephew  for  a  great  number  of  years,  post- 
poning vigorous  action  out  of  a  mistaken  kindness, 
but  she  was  now  firmly  resolved  upon  the  act  of  ex- 
pulsion. "  It's  for  your  sake  entirely,"  he  con- 
tinued. "  Naturally  Aunt  wants  to  see  you  settled 
in  some  business,  as  she  knows  she  can't  leave  you 
anything." 

"  Except  the  furniture,"  remarked  George  indif- 
ferently. 

"  That's  not  exactly  a  fortune,"  replied  Percy, 
wondering  how  much  his  cousin  knew  about  Chinese 
vases. 

"  My  uncle  promised  I  should  have  the  furniture," 
said  the  monotonous  George. 

"  Every  man  should  work,"  observed  Percy  vir- 
tuously. 

"  I  could  manage  tomatoes,"  retorted  George. 

"  I  shall  be  a  rich  man  when  the  aunts  die,  while 
you  will  have  nothing.  I  don't  require  to  build  up  a 
business.  Don't  you  want  a  home  of  your  own, 
wife  and  children,  and  all  that  sort  of  thing  ?  " 

"  No,"  said  George. 

"  What  do  you  want  then  ?  " 

"  Board  and  lodging,  and  some  one  to  look  after 
me,"  replied  the  candid  cousin. 

"  Aunt  Maria  has  said  her  last  word.     She  won't 


GEORGE  TACKLES  THE  PROBLEM  75 

keep  you  in  idleness  any  longer.  And  I'm  going  to 
stay  here  until  you  leave  the  place." 

"  They  never  brought  me  up  to  do  anything," 
argued  George  for  the  defence. 

"  They  did  their  best,  but  you  wouldn't  work." 

"  They  ought  to  have  made  me.  I  was  young 
then,  and  it  was  their  duty  to  make  me  submit  to 
discipline.  Now  I'm  middle-aged." 

"  Thirty-eight  is  still  young." 

"  With  some  men ;  not  with  me.  My  habits  are 
formed." 

"  When  you  find  something  to  do  — " 

"  That's  just  what  Aunt  Maria  says,"  George  in- 
terrupted bitterly.  "  She  never  suggested  anything 
but  once,  and  then  she  said  I  might  have  gone 
abroad  as  a  missionary  if  I  hadn't  been  unfit  for  the 
job.  It's  all  very  well  to  talk  about  doing  some- 
thing in  this  beastly  overcrowded  world,  but  what 
can  a  middle-aged  bachelor  do  except  put  his  trust 
in  Providence?  My  uncle  was  at  least  practical: 
he  did  suggest  I  should  turn  pilot  or  harbour-mas- 
ter, although  he  knew  the  very  sight  of  the  sea  puts 
my  liver  out  of  order." 

"  You  might  open  a  shop  to  sell  fruit  and  flowers ; 
and  I'll  supply  you." 

"  I  don't  understand  buying  and  selling,  and  I 
can't  do  accounts.  You  would  take  the  profit,  and  I 
should  have  the  losses." 


76  A  DRAKE  BY  GEORGE ! 

"  You  must  make  up  your  mind.  Aunt  is  per- 
fectly serious,"  declared  Percy. 

"  I  don't  want  to  offend  her,  and  of  course  I 
couldn't  abuse  her  kindness,"  said  George  slowly; 
"but  just  suppose  I  did  refuse  to  leave  home  — 
suppose  I  insisted  upon  staying  here  and  leading  the 
sort  of  life  that  suits  my  health  —  what  could  she 
do?" 

"  If  you  were  rotten  enough  for  that,  I  suppose 
she  could  appeal  to  the  magistrates  for  an  eject- 
ment order,"  replied  Percy  hazily. 

"  She  is  much  too  kind  for  that.  Besides,  I  am 
her  nephew." 

"  Only  by  marriage.  You  are  not  a  blood  rela- 
tion; you  can't  claim  to  be  dependent  on  her." 

"  I  was  thinking  what  a  scandal  it  would  make 
in  the  parish.  Aunt  and  I  don't  get  on  well  to- 
gether, but  I'm  sure  she  would  never  turn  me 
out." 

"You  ought  to  have  heard  her  just  now.  I  had 
no  idea  Aunt  Maria  could  be  so  determined.  She 
will  give  you  money  —  she  will  help  you  —  but  go 
you  must." 

"  Did  she  say  where  ?  " 

"  That's  for  you  to  decide.  Isn't  there  any  sort 
of  job  that  takes  your  fancy?" 

"  I  like  railways.  I  always  feel  at  home  in  a  big 
railway  station,"  George  admitted. 


GEORGE  TACKLES  THE  PROBLEM  77 

"  Station-masted/ —  or  traffic-manager  • —  might 
suit  you." 

"  Do  you  know  I  really  believe  it  would,"  said 
George  brightly. 

"  Now  we've  found  it !  "  exclaimed  Percy.  "  I'm 
going  the  day  after  to-morrow,  and  you  had  better 
come  with  me.  We  will  travel  up  to  Waterloo,  and 
you  can  see  the  directors  there  about  getting  a  job 
as  station-master.  I  don't  know  if  there's  a  pre- 
mium, but,  if  there  is,  Aunt  will  pay  it.  You  might 
get  a  small  suburban  station  to  start  with.  We'll 
go  on  Friday  —  that's  a  bargain,  George?" 

"  Right,  old  chap !  It's  a  long  time  since  I  had  a 
holiday,"  came  the  ominous  reply. 

Mrs.  Drake  opened  her  heart  and  purse  when  she 
discovered  George  was  about  to  accept  a  position  as 
station-master.  Miss  Yard  said  she  was  sorry  to 
hear  he  was  giving  up  tomatoes,  then  in  the  same 
breath  implored  Percy  to  keep  away  from  junctions 
where  people  were  lost  and  trains  collided  with  dis- 
tressing frequency.  Kezia  mended  linen,  packed, 
and  uttered  many  a  dark  saying  about  men  who  left 
their  homes  on  Friday  in  the  pride  of  life  and  were 
not  heard  of  again.  Percy  assured  his  aunts  they 
might  always  rely  upon  him  to  settle  any  difficulty. 
While  George  basked  in  popularity,  like  a  sleek  cat 
upon  a  window-sill,  and  took  all  that  he  could  get  in 
the  way  of  cash,  clothing,  and  compliments. 


78  A  DRAKE  BY  GEORGE ! 

"  You  must  come  here  sometimes.  I  expect  you 
won't  be  able  to  get  away  for  a  year  or  two ;  but 
when  you  do  get  leave  remember  this  is  always  your 
home,"  said  Mrs.  Drake  warmly. 

"  I  feel  sure  we  shall  soon  meet  again,"  said  George 
hopefully. 

"  A  year  anyhow :  you  cannot  expect  a  holiday  be- 
fore then.  I'm  sure  the  railway  will  be  lucky  to  get 
such  a  fine-looking  man,  though  it's  a  pity  you  stoop, 
and  I  wish  you  were  not  quite  so  stout.  Perhaps 
the  King  will  get  out  at  your  station  some  day ;  and 
you  will  have  the  honour  of  putting  flower-pots  on 
the  platform  and  laying  down  the  red  carpet.  You 
may  be  knighted,  George,  or  at  the  very  least  get  a 
medal  for  distinguished  service." 

George  was  not  thinking  about  honours  much; 
for  he  had  glanced  towards  the  mantelpiece  and  dis- 
covered that  the  pair  of  vases  were  missing. 

"  I  have  put  them  away,"  explained  Mrs.  Drake. 
"  They  are  wrapped  up  safely  in  a  box  underneath 
my  bed." 

"  I  was  afraid  Percy  might  have  taken  them,"  said 
George  cautiously. 

"  He  did  advise  me  to  put  them  away,  as  he 
thought  perhaps  we  ought  to  take  care  of  them," 
Mrs.  Drake  admitted. 

"  I  hate  the  chap,"  muttered  George. 

"  I  was   afraid   Aunt   Sophy  might  break  them. 


GEORGE  TACKLES  THE  PROBLEM  79 

She  is  always  knocking  things  over.  She  takes  an 
ornament  from  the  mantelpiece,  and  when  she  tries 
to  put  it  back  she  misjudges  the  distance.  It's  the 
same  with  tables  and  teacups.  She  has  broken  such 
a  lot  of  crockery." 

"  Uncle  said  I  was  to  have  the  vases  and  every- 
thing else  that  belonged  to  him,"  said  George 
firmly. 

"  Oh,  you  needn't  worry,"  Mrs.  Drake  replied. 
"  Now  that  you  are  really  going  to  work  for  your 
living,  I  will  let  you  into  a  little  secret.  When  I 
married  your  uncle  he  insisted  upon  going  to  a  lawyer 
and  making  his  will  leaving  everything  to  me, 
although  the  dear  fellow  had  nothing  to  leave  ex- 
cept his  odds  and  ends.  So  then  of  course  I  made 
a  will  leaving  everything  to  him,  although  I  thought 
I  had  nothing  to  leave ;  but  the  lawyer  explained  that 
any  money  I  should  have  in  the  bank,  together  with 
the  proportion  of  income  reckoned  up  to  the  day  of 
my  death,  would  go  to  him.  Then  we  adopted  you, 
so  I  went  to  the  lawyer  again,  and  he  put  on  some- 
thing called  a  codicil,  which  said  that,  in  the  event 
of  uncle  dying  first,  everything  that  I  left  would 
go  to  you." 

"  Then  there  is  no  reason  why  I  should  work  for 
my  living,"  said  George  cheerfully. 

"  How  are  you  going  to  live  upon  the  interest  of 
two  or  three  hundred  pounds  ?  " 


80  A  DRAKE  BY  GEORGE ! 

"  A  man  of  simple  tastes  can  do  with  very  little," 
declared  the  nephew. 

Fruit-grower  and  prospective  railway  magnate 
went  off  together  on  Friday  morning,  but  the  only 
despatch  to  reach  Windward  House  came  from 
Percy,  who  announced  he  had  reached  his  mortgaged 
premises  in  perfect  safety,  after  leaving  George  upon 
the  platform  of  Waterloo  station  surrounded  by  of- 
ficials. This  might  have  signified  anything.  Mrs. 
Drake  supposed  it  meant  that  all  the  great  men 
of  the  railway  had  assembled  to  greet  their  new 
colleague  upon  his  arrival.  What  it  did  mean  was 
that  Percy  had  freed  himself  of  responsibility  at  the 
earliest  possible  moment,  abandoning  his  cousin  to 
a  knot  of  porters  who  claimed  the  honour  and  dis- 
tinction of  dealing  with  his  baggage,  which  probably 
they  supposed  was  the  property  of  a  gentleman 
about  to  penetrate  into  one  of  the  unexplored  cor- 
ners of  the  earth. 

Not  a  postcard  came  from  George.  He  disap- 
peared completely ;  but  Mrs.  Drake  was  delighted  to 
think  he  was  attending  to  his  new  duties  so  strenu- 
ously as  to  be  unable  to  write;  while  Miss  Yard  re- 
membered him  only  once,  and  then  remarked  in  a 
reverential  whisper  that  she  would  very  much  like 
to  visit  his  grave. 

It  was  the  fourteenth  day  after  the  flight  of  George 
into  the  realm  of  labour;  and  during  the  afternoon 


Mrs.  Drake  set  out  upon  her  weekly  pilgrimage  to 
the  churchyard,  accompanied  by  Kezia,  who  carried 
a  basket  of  flowers,  and  Bessie  with  a  watering-pot. 
Nellie  had  settled  Miss  Yard  in  her  easy  chair  with 
the  latest  report  of  the  Society  for  Improving  the 
Morals  of  the  Andaman  Islanders,  and  had  then  re- 
tired to  her  bedroom  to  do  some  sewing.  The  giant 
tortoise  was  clearing  the  kitchen  garden  of  young 
lettuces ;  the  monkeys  were  collecting  entomological 
specimens.  One  of  the  intelligent  parrots  exclaimed, 
"  Gone  for  a  walk  " ;  a  still  more  intelligent  bird  an- 
swered, "  Here  we  are  again  !  "  Then  George  passed 
out  of  the  sunshine  and  entered  the  cool  parlour. 

"  Oh  dear !  I'm  afraid  I  had  nearly  gone  to 
sleep,"  said  Miss  Yard,  rising  to  receive  the  visitor, 
and  wondering  whoever  he  could  be,  until  she  re- 
membered the  churchwarden  had  promised  to  call 
for  a  subscription  to  the  organ  fund. 

"  Do  please  sit  down,"  she  continued  and  tried  to 
set  the  example ;  but  she  missed  the  chair  by  a  few 
inches  and  descended  somewhat  heavily  upon  the 
footstool.  The  visitor  helped  her  to  rise,  and  was 
much  thanked.  "You  will  stay  to  tea?  My  sis- 
ter will  be  here  presently,"  Miss  Yard  continued, 
while  she  fumbled  in  her  reticule,  and  at  last  pro- 
duced a  sovereign.  "  You  see  I  had  it  all  ready 
for  you.  I  remembered  I  had  promised  it,"  she  said 
triumphantly. 


82  A  DRAKE  BY  GEORGE! 

George  pocketed  the  coin,  and  thanked  her  heart- 
ily. He  mentioned  that  it  was  very  dusty  walking, 
and  he  was  weary,  having  travelled  a  considerable 
distance  since  the  morning.  Then  he  proposed  to 
leave  Miss  Yard,  who  shook  hands,  and  said  how 
sorry  her  sister  would  be  not  to  have  seen  him ;  and 
went  to  his  bedroom,  which  he  was  considerably  an- 
noyed to  find  had  been  converted  into  a  place  for 
lumber. 

"  Maria,  you  have  missed  the  vicar ! "  cried  Miss 
Yard  excitedly,  the  moment  her  sister  returned.  "  I 
gave  him  a  sovereign  for  the  Andaman  Islanders, 
and  he  told  me  what  a  lot  of  sleeping  sickness  there 
is  in  the  village." 

"What  are  you  talking  about?  The  vicar  can't 
have  been  here,  for  we  saw  him  in  the  churchyard, 
and  he  never  mentioned  any  sickness  in  the  village." 

"  Perhaps  I  was  thinking  of  something  I  had  just 
read  about.  One  gets  muddled  sometimes.  But  the 
vicar  —  or  somebody  —  has  been,  and  there  was 
nearly  a  dreadful  accident.  He  caught  his  foot  in 
the  hearth-rug,  but  luckily  my  footstool  broke  his 
fall." 

At  that  moment  footsteps  descended  the  stairs. 
With  a  feeling  that  the  sounds  were  horribly  fa- 
miliar, Mrs.  Drake  hurried  into  the  hall,  there  to 
discover  her  nephew,  who  appeared  delighted  to  be 
home  again  upon  a  thoroughly  well-earned  holiday. 


GEORGE  TACKLES  THE  PROBLEM  83 

"  George,  I  have  prayed  that  you  wouldn't  do 
this,"  she  cried. 

"  It's  all  right,  Aunt,"  came  the  cheery  answer. 
"  Though  perhaps  it  was  rather  silly  of  me  to  start 
work  upon  a  Friday.  The  railway  profession  is 
very  much  overcrowded  just  now,  and  there's  not  a 
single  vacancy  for  station-master  anywhere.  They 
have  put  my  name  on  the  waiting-list,  and  as  soon 
as  there's  a  job  going,  they  will  write  and  let  me 
know.  I  am  quite  content  to  wait,  and  I  may  just 
as  well  do  it  here  as  in  expensive  lodgings." 

"  How  long  do  you  expect  to  wait?  " 

"  Can't  tell.  It  may  be  a  slow  business,  but  it's 
sure.  A  station-master  told  me  you  may  have  to 
wait  year  after  year,  but  promotion  is  bound  to 
come  at  last  —  if  you  live  long  enough." 

"  Then  you  may  do  nothing  for  years." 

"  I'm  not  going  to  take  anything ;  I  owe  it  to  my 
uncle's  memory  to  occupy  a  respectable  position. 
Still,  if  I  can't  get  a  terminus  after  a  few  months' 
waiting,  I'll  put  up  with  a  small  junction.  Rather 
than  not  work  at  all,  I  would  condescend  to  act  as  a 
mere  Inspector,"  said  George  with  dignity. 

"  I  wish  the  vicar  would  shave  off  his  moustache," 
Miss  Yard  murmured. 


CHAPTER  VI 

HONOURABLE    INTENTIONS 

EVERY  evening  at  nine  Mrs.  Drake  drank  a 
cup  of  coffee.     This  was  a  custom  of  some 
historical    importance,    and    it    originated 
after  the  following  manner: 

Captain  Drake  had  a  great  liking  for  a  small  glass 
of  whisky  and  water  after  his  evening  pipe ;  but, 
during  the  first  few  weeks  of  married  life,  refrained 
from  divulging  this  weakness  to  his  wife,  who  could 
not  understand  why  he  became  so  restless  at  the 
same  time  every  evening.  The  Captain  explained 
that,  when  he  had  finished  smoking,  he  suffered  from 
an  incurable  longing  to  arise  and  walk  about  the 
house.  Mrs.  Drake  advised  him  to  take  exercise  by 
all  means,  and  the  Captain  did  so,  wandering  to- 
wards the  dining-room  at  nine  o'clock,  and  returning 
about  ten  minutes  later  in  a  thoroughly  satisfied 
state  of  mind.  But  one  evening  the  lady  heard  him 
whisper  to  the  servant,  "  Water,  my  child !  Wa- 
ter ! " —  the  Captain  never  could  whisper  properly 

—  and  upon  another  evening  she  distinguished  the 

84 


HONOURABLE  INTENTIONS  85 

creak  of  a  corkscrew,  while  every  evening  she  was 
able  to  detect  a  subtle  aroma  which  could  not  have 
been  introduced  as  one  of  the  ordinary  results  of 
walking  about  the  house. 

"  So  you  are  fond  of  whisky,"  she  said  sharply. 

"  Well,  not  exactly  fond  of  it,  my  dear,"  stam- 
mered the  Captain.  "  Really  I  don't  care  for 
whisky,  but  I  like  the  feeling  it  gives  me." 

"  I  don't  like  hypocrisy,  and  I  dislike  still  more 
the  feeling  it  gives  me.  In  future  we  will  drink  to- 
gether. When  you  take  your  glass  of  whisky,  I  will 
have  a  cup  of  coffee,"  she  replied. 

After  the  arrival  of  Miss  Yard  at  Windward 
House,  she  too  was  offered  the  cup,  but  declined,  as 
she  abhorred  coffee. 

"  But  it's  cocoa,"  explained  Kezia. 

"Why  do  you  call  it  coffee  then?"  asked  Miss 
Yard,  who  had  quite  enough  to  perplex  her  poor 
brain  without  this  unnecessary  difficulty. 

"  Mrs.  Drake  used  to  have  coffee  once,  but,  as  she 
never  cared  for  it  much,  she  took  to  cocoa.  She  has 
drunk  cocoa  for  twenty  years,  but  we  always  call  it 
coffee." 

Bessie  and  Robert  stayed  every  evening  to  drink 
coffee,  which  was  generally  cocoa,  but  sometimes  beer. 
One  evening  Nellie  was  so  late  that  Kezia  declared  she 
should  wait  for  her  no  longer.  It  was  Thursday,  and 
Nellie,  who  sang  in  the  choir,  had  gone  out  to  attend 


86  A  DRAKE  BY  GEORGE! 

the  weekly  practice.  Suddenly  Robert  withdrew  his 
head  from  a  steaming  bowl  and  declared  he  heard 
voices  in  the  garden.  All  listened,  and  presently 
Nellie's  laughter  passed  in  at  the  back  door,  which 
stood  open  as  the  night  was  warm,  but  Nellie  did  not 
accompany  it. 

Robert  made  a  signal  to  the  others,  and  they  tip- 
toed out  like  so  many  conspirators,  to  discover  the 
young  lady  enjoying  a  confidential  conversation  with 
somebody  else  who  sang  in  the  choir,  and  whose  voice 
had  been  described  by  the  schoolmaster-organist  as  a 
promising  baritone.  It  looked  as  if  it  was  promising 
then. 

A  few  minutes  later  Kezia  and  Bessie  appeared  in 
the  parlour,  and  asked  Mrs.  Drake  if  she  had  any 
objection  to  Sidney  Brock  drinking  a  cup  of  coffee. 

"Who  is  Sidney  Brock?"  demanded  Mrs.  Drake, 
like  a  learned  judge  of  the  King's  Bench. 

"  He'm  the  grandson  of  Eli  Brock,  and  he  sings  in 
the  choir." 

Mrs.  Drake  expressed  her  approval,  but  required 
to  know  more  about  the  family  before  she  could  issue 
a  permit  to  Sidney  entitling  him  to  drink  coffee. 

"  They'm  the  new  folk  to  Black  Anchor,"  ex- 
plained Bessie.  "  Mr.  Brock  used  to  keep  a  post- 
office,  they  ses,  but  it  failed,  and  now  he'm  farming 
wi'  Sidney,  and  they  ha'  got  no  woman,  and  they 
took  Black  Anchor  because  'twas  to  be  had  vor  noth- 


HONOURABLE  INTENTIONS  87 

ing  nearly,  and  'tis  wonderful,  Robert  ses,  what  a  lot 
they  ha'  done  already." 

"  The  post-office  failed ! "  exclaimed  Miss  Yard, 
who  had  been  listening  intently  with  a  hand  behind 
her  ear.  "  What  a  pity !  Now  I  shan't  be  able  to 
write  any  more  letters." 

"  Mr.  Brock's  post-office,  miss,"  cried  Bessie.  "  It 
was  a  shop  as  well,  but  it  didn't  pay." 

"How  much  does  he  want?"  asked  Miss  Yard, 
searching  for  her  reticule. 

"  Nothing,  miss." 

"What's  he  come  for  then?  I  hope  he  hasn't 
brought  a  telegram." 

"  He's  one  of  the  choirmen,  Sophy,"  exclaimed 
Mrs.  Drake,  adding,  "  But  I  don't  know  why  he 
should  come  here." 

"  He's  just  brought  your  Nellie  home,"  said  Kezia. 

"  Oh,  I  am  so  thankful !  "  cried  Miss  Yard.  "  I 
knew  Nellie  would  be  lost,  going  out  these  dreadful 
dark  nights." 

"  She  only  went  to  choir-practice,  miss.  Sidney  is 
her  young  man  now,  and  they'll  make  the  best-look- 
ing couple  in  Highfield,"  said  Bessie. 

"  How  silly  of  you  to  tell  her  that ! "  said  Mrs. 
Drake  crossly. 

Miss  Yard  said  nothing  for  a  few  moments.  She 
stared  at  the  mummy,  then  at  the  grandfather  clock, 
which  was  no  longer  in  working  order ;  and  presently 


88  A  DRAKE  BY  GEORGE! 

her  poor  old  face  began  to  twitch  and  tears  rolled 
down  her  cheeks.  She  tried  to  rise,  but  Kezia  re- 
strained her  with  kindly  hands,  saying,  "  Don't 
worry,  miss.  Sidney  is  a  very  nice  young  man,  and 
I'm  sure  Nellie  couldn't  do  much  better." 

"  She  never  told  me,"  sobbed  Miss  Yard. 

"  Perhaps  she  did,  but  you  know  you  don't  re- 
member anything,"  said  Mrs.  Drake  soothingly. 

"  My  memory  is  as  good  as  yours.  I  can  remem- 
ber you  eating  a  lot  of  chocolate  on  your  fifth  birth- 
day, and  being  suddenly  sick  in  the  fender.  Nellie 
has  run  away  and  got  married  —  and  I  never  gave 
her  a  wedding  present  —  and  I  can't  get  on  without 
her.  You  know,  Maria,  I  never  did  like  that  fat 
woman  at  the  post-office." 

"  What  has  she  got  to  do  with  Nellie?  " 

"  You  told  me  Nellie  had  to  marry  the  man  be- 
cause the  post-office  failed  —  and  that  woman  opens 
my  letters  and  reads  them." 

"  Call  Nellie  and  tell  her  to  put  Miss  Sophy  to 
bed,"  ordered  Mrs.  Drake. 

"  The  young  man's  waiting  outside,"  Kezia  re- 
minded her. 

"  Ask  him  in,  and  give  him  a  cup  of  coffee.  And, 
when  she  has  gone  to  bed,  tell  him  to  come  in  here. 
I  want  to  see  what  he  is  like.  Get  Nellie,  quick ! " 
cried  the  lady;  for  Miss  Yard  had  got  away  from 
her  chair  and  was  knocking  things  over. 


HONOURABLE  INTENTIONS  89 

Nellie  appeared  in  full  flower,  to  scold  her  mistress 
for  not  remaining  dormant  until  her  usual  bedtime; 
but  on  this  occasion  Miss  Yard  rebelled  against  dis- 
cipline. 

"  You  have  deceived  me,"  she  said  bitterly.  "  You 
have  been  a  little  viper.  Everybody  in  this  house  de- 
ceives me,  and  keeps  things  from  me,  except  George. 
He  is  the  only  gentleman  here.  He's  the  only  one 
who  knows  how  to  behave  properly.  When  I  hit  my 
head  upon  the  door,  he  was  sorry  for  me;  but  you 
laughed,  and  my  sister  laughed,  and  everybody's 
laughing  now  except  George.  He  knows  how  hard  it 
is  to  walk  out  of  a  room  without  hurting  yourself." 

"  It's  so  easy  to  laugh  somehow,"  said  Nellie. 

"  Why  did  you  marry  the  postman  without  telling 
me?" 

"  I  have  not  married  the  postman,  and  I'm  not 
thinking  of  getting  married ;  and  what's  more  I  won't 
marry  while  I  have  you  to  look  after,"  Nellie 
promised. 

"  But  you  went  out  and  got  lost,  and  some  man 
found  you,  and  they  all  say  you  married  him." 

"  There  wasn't  time,"  said  Nellie.  "  Now  come 
away  to  bed,  and  we'll  talk  about  it  in  the  morning." 

"  I  hope  we  shall  be  able  to  forget  all  the  malice 
and  wickedness.  Maria,  do  let  us  try  to  begin  all 
over  again,"  said  Miss  Yard  earnestly.  "  This  evil- 
speaking  and  slandering  is  so  dreadful.  You  tried 


90  A  DRAKE  BY  GEORGE! 

to  take  away  poor  Nellie's  character;  you  heard 
Kezia  say  she  was  a  regular  bad  girl ;  and  that  horrid 
Bessie,  who  will  not  stop  growing,  said  it  was  be- 
cause the  woman  at  the  post-office  couldn't  sell  her 
stamps,  and  then  the  postman  tempted  her  to  run  off 
with  him." 

"  But  he  didn't  succeed,"  said  the  laughing  girl, 
as  she  conveyed  Miss  Yard  towards  the  stairs. 

As  they  disappeared  George  entered  the  house,  and 
observed  to  his  aunt  that  the  night  was  warm.  Mrs. 
Drake  felt  cold  towards  her  nephew,  whose  letter  of 
appointment  had  not  yet  arrived,  but  she  thawed 
sufficiently  to  inquire  whether  he  knew  anything 
about  the  Brocks.  George  became  suspicious,  and 
answered  guardedly: 

"  The  old  man  is  a  marvel.  He  cooks  the  food  and 
keeps  the  house  tidy,  and  puts  in  a  good  day's  work 
as  well  upon  the  worst  farm  in  the  parish.  But  the 
people  don't  like  him  much." 

"  Why  not?  "  demanded  Mrs.  Drake. 

"  They  think  it's  queer  a  man  should  do  a  woman's 
work ;  and  some  of  them  say  it's  not  quite  decent." 

His  voice  died  away  into  a  gasp  of  amazement,  for 
that  moment  Kezia  announced  Sidney,  and  that 
young  fellow  appeared  upon  the  carpet.  George  had 
been  about  to  give  him  a  remarkably  good  character, 
but  was  now  disposed  to  reconsider  his  decision ;  espe- 
cially when  Mrs.  Drake,  after  a  few  preliminary  re- 


HONOURABLE  INTENTIONS  91 

marks,  introduced  the  name  of  Nellie.  George  im- 
mediately withdrew  to  a  back  window  and  began  to 
search  for  flies. 

"  She  is  a  very  good  girl,  and  my  sister  is  wonder- 
fully attached  to  her,"  Mrs.  Drake  resumed. 

"  Same  here,"  said  Sidney  promptly. 

"  I  don't  know  whether  you  are  engaged  to  her," 
said  Mrs.  Drake. 

"  Well,  we  don't  exactly  get  engaged.  We  just 
walk  together  until  we  can  get  married,  and  then  we 
do  it,"  exclaimed  Sidney. 

"  I  hope  you  won't  ask  her  to  marry  you  while  my 
sister  is  alive." 

"  Nellie  wouldn't  leave  Miss  Yard,  and  'twould  be 
no  gude  my  asking  her." 

"  Do  you  think  the  farm  will  pay  ?  "  was  Mrs. 
Drake's  next  question. 

"  We'll  get  a  living  out  of  it,  sure  enough,"  replied 
Sidney  cheerfully.  "  The  last  folk  left  it  in  a  pretty 
bad  state  —  they  let  the  bog  get  into  the  best  field, 
and  the  whole  place  is  vull  of  verm  —  but  there's 
plenty  of  gude  soil.  'Twill  take  a  year  to  get 
straight,  and  after  that  we  shall  go  ahead.  Grand- 
father's past  seventy,  but  he's  vor  ten  hours  a  day 
jet." 

"  An  example  for  some  men,"  commented  the  lady, 
with  a  shrug  of  her  shoulders  towards  the  fly-killer. 

"  The  finest  man  in  the  world  —  that's  grandfa- 


93  A  DRAKE  BY  GEORGE ! 

ther.  There  ain't  hardly  a  job  he  can't  do,  whether 
'tis  man's  work  or  woman's  work." 

"  How  old  are  you  ?  " 

"  Past  nineteen." 

"  Would  you  marry  a  girl  older  than  yourself  ?  " 

"  If  her  name  wur  Nellie  Blisland,  I  would." 

"  I  hope  you  will  get  on,"  said  Mrs.  Drake  in  her 
kindliest  fashion.  "  You  may  come  in  any  evening 
for  a  cup  of  coffee  with  the  others,  and  tell  your 
grandfather  to  stay  to  supper  with  you  on  Sundays 
after  church." 

"  Thankye  kindly,"  said  Sidney. 

"  That's  what  I  call  a  man,  though  he  is  only  nine- 
teen," observed  Mrs.  Drake,  when  she  and  her  nephew 
were  alone  again. 

"  Oh  yes,  he's  a  nice  boy,  a  clever  boy.  A  bit 
mealy-mouthed,  and  all  that  sort  of  thing,"  said 
George  indifferently. 

"  Do  you  know  anything  against  him?  " 

"  I  can  see  what's  going  on.  The  old  man  is  one 
of  the  best,  but  Sidney  isn't  quite  straight.  This 
singing  in  the  choir,  you  know,  is  just  a  blind.  Nel- 
lie's not  the  only  girl." 

"  Do  you  mean  to  say  the  boy  is  a  humbug  —  like 
you  are?  " 

"  Find  out  for  yourself,"  replied  George  fiercely, 
and  stalked  out  of  the  room. 

Local  rumour  was  brought  to  Windward  House 


HONOURABLE  INTENTIONS  93 

every  day  by  Robert,  but  Mrs.  Drake  had  no  direct 
communication  with  him.  She  inquired  of  Kezia 
concerning  Sidney's  character,  and  Kezia  appealed 
to  Bessie,  who  knew  quite  as  much  as  her  husband, 
although  she  could  not  speak  with  his  authority. 
Robert  declared  he  liked  Sidney,  and  had  never  seen 
him  with  more  than  one  young  woman  at  a  time ;  but 
he  admitted  some  rather  unkind  things  were  being 
said  against  the  two  occupants  of  the  lonely  farm, 
especially  by  the  women,  who  were  of  opinion  that 
old  Brock  had  disposed  of  his  former  relations  by 
means  of  those  illegal  methods  which  made  the  or- 
dinary Sunday  newspaper  such  interesting  and  in- 
structive reading.  At  all  events,  a  man  who  was 
independent  of  female  labour  could  not  expect  to  be 
regarded  as  a  Christian,  even  though  he  did  attend 
church  and  had  grown  a  patriarchal  beard.  The 
Brocks,  in  short,  were  not  like  other  men ;  they  were 
therefore  mysteries ;  and  anything  of  a  mysterious 
nature  was  bound  to  be  intimately  connected  with  se- 
cret crime. 

These  things  Robert  admitted,  quite  forgetting  — 
if  the  fact  had  ever  dawned  upon  him  —  that  it  was 
the  custom  in  Highfield,  as  in  other  places  about  the 
Forest  of  Dartmoor,  for  the  parishioners  to  revile 
each  other  amongst  themselves,  and  to  defend  one 
another  against  all  outsiders.  In  the  bad  old  days 
a  certain  vicar  of  Highfield  had  been  a  notorious 


94  A  DRAKE  BY  GEORGE ! 

drunkard,  and  was  so  hated  by  his  people  that  he 
could  hadly  appear  in  the  street  without  being  in- 
sulted; but  when  the  authorities  sought  to  procure 
evidence  against  him,  all  were  for  their  vicar,  and  the 
very  men  who  had  carried  him  home  drunk  the  pre- 
vious night  swore  they  had  never  known  him  the 
worse  for  liquor.  Mrs.  Drake  did  not  know  of  this 
peculiarity,  and  was  therefore  forced  to  the  conclu- 
sion that  Mr.  Brock  had  a  past,  which  was  not  won- 
derful considering  his  age ;  and  that,  if  Nellie  married 
Sidney  and  went  to  live  at  Black  Anchor,  it  was 
quite  possible  she  would  not  have  a  future.  So  she 
instructed  Kezia  not  to  encourage  the  young  man, 
and  advised  Nellie  to  fall  out  of  love  as  tactfully  as 
possible. 

In  the  meantime,  George  appeared  to  be  passing 
through  the  throes  of  reformation.  Although  actu- 
ally the  same  unprofitable  person,  he  succeeded,  by 
a  skilful  change  of  methods,  in  making  his  aunt  be- 
lieve industry  was  now  the  one  and  the  only  thing  he 
lived  for.  He  displayed  a  passion  for  railways ; 
talked  of  little  but  express-trains  and  time-tables ; 
constructed  a  model  of  a  railway-station  out  of  a  few 
packing-cases ;  and  drew  caricatures  of  locomotives. 
He  fumed  every  morning  because  the  long-expected 
letter  from  headquarters  still  failed  to  arrive.  Mrs. 
Drake,  who  was  easily  deceived,  quite  supposed 
George  had  turned  over  a  new  leaf ;  and  he  had  done 


HONOURABLE  INTENTIONS  95 

so,  but  without  changing  his  book.  He  had  not  the 
slightest  intention  of  quitting  Windward  House,  but 
he  could  see  no  prospect  of  carrying  out  his  pro- 
gramme by  persevering  in  the  old  methods.  He  con- 
tinued to  idle  away  his  time ;  but  he  did  so  in  a  dif- 
ferent fashion. 

His  next  step  was  to  develop  the  programme,  and 
to  indulge  a  few  of  the  leading  items  to  the  other  per- 
son whose  name  was  writ  large  upon  it.  This  was 
no  easy  matter,  since  opportunity,  resolution,  and 
guileless  speech  would  have  to  be  obtained  simul- 
taneously. George's  eloquence  was  of  the  meanest 
description ;  he  was  master  of  no  honeyed  phrase, 
while  his  method  of  expressing  affection  for  another 
consisted  in  advertising  the  virtues  of  himself. 

One  afternoon  he  was  lying  beneath  a  favourite 
apple-tree,  when  a  fine  specimen  of  the  fruit  fell  upon 
his  chest.  He  sat  up,  rubbed  his  eyes,  and  looked 
round.  Then  he  ate  the  apple  and  listened.  The 
silence  was  profound;  he  seemed  to  be  indolent 
monarch  of  a  lazy  world.  George  remembered  that, 
shortly  before  sleep  had  gently  touched  his  eyelids, 
Mrs.  Drake  and  Kezia  had  passed  out  of  the  garden. 
Miss  Yard  would  be  contentedly  muddling  through 
the  maze  of  some  missionary  magazine.  While  the 
only  other  person  in  the  house  might  be  sitting  beside 
a  window  at  the  back. 

George  comprehended  that  the  falling  apple  had 


96  A  DRAKE  BY  GEORGE ! 

been  a  call  to  seize  the  opportunity ;  resolution  he 
seemed  to  have  acquired  by  devouring  it ;  eloquence 
alone  was  wanting.  But  big  words,  he  knew,  could 
never  fail  brave  people. 

Fortune  was  smiling  in  the  kindest  way  from  the 
little  upstairs  window,  where  Nellie's  head  was  bob- 
bing over  a  sewing-machine,  which  she  fed  with  yards 
of  summer-cloud  material.  George  went  on  steadily 
reforming  and  strenuously  gazing ;  but  Nellie  did  not 
condescend  to  throw  a  glance  in  his  direction. 

"  There's  a  nice  view  from  your  window,"  he  said 
at  last;  an  unfortunate  beginning,  as  the  girl  could 
see  little  except  himself. 

"  Lovely,"  she  said,  without  looking  around. 

"  Are  you  sewing  ?  "  George  inquired  gently. 

"Learning  the  typewriter,"  she  replied. 

George  wanted  to  go  into  the  house  and  procure  a 
glass  of  cider,  but  dared  not  lose  the  opportunity. 

"  Nellie,"  he  said,  making  as  many  syllables  possi- 
ble of  her  name,  "  do  you  mind  me  talking  to  you 
a  little  about  yourself?  " 

"  I  can't  prevent  it  unless  I  shut  the  window,  and 
don't  want  to  do  that,"  she  said. 

"  I  wanted  to  say  that  —  to  remind  you  that  my 
aunt  is  not  going  to  live  for  ever,"  George  continued. 

"  That's  not  talking  about  me." 

"  Ah,  but  I'm  coming  to  you  presently." 

"  You  can  stay  where  you  are,"  she  said  coldly. 


HONOURABLE  INTENTIONS  97 

"  Miss  Yard  won't  live  for  ever  either,"  said 
George,  more  confidently.  "  She  can't  leave  you 
anything,  because  all  her  money  goes  to  my  beastly 
cousin  Percy.  I  know  she  is  always  promising  to 
leave  you  money,  but  she  can't  do  it." 

"  I  am  to  have  her  furniture  anyhow,"  said  Nellie, 
removing  her  hands  from  the  machine,  and  turning 
at  last  towards  the  window. 

"  Oh  no !  I  get  that.  Aunt  Sophy's  furniture  is 
to  go  with  the  rest." 

"  Is  that  really  true?  "  asked  Nellie,  who  had  good 
reason  to  be  suspicious  of  Miss  Yard's  promises. 

"  Yes,  it  all  comes  to  me,"  said  George  eagerly. 
"  I  shall  have  the  furniture,  and  the  house,  and  the 
cash  my  aunt  leaves.  The  two  Chinese  vases  aunt 
keeps  underneath  her  bed  are  worth  a  thousand 
pounds ;  that's  a  great  secret,  and  I  wouldn't  tell  any 
one  but  you.  The  other  things  will  fetch  five  hun- 
dred pounds.  Then  I  shall  have  the  money  that 
aunt  leaves  —  perhaps  another  five  hundred.  Then 
the  property  will  bring  another  thousand.  So  you 
see,  when  the  old  ladies  die,  I  shall  have  pots  of 
money." 

"  It  will  mean  more  to  be  you  then  than  it  does 
now,"  said  Nellie  darkly. 

"  Yes,  I  shall  be  quite  rich.  You  see,  there's  no 
reason  why  I  should  work,  as  aunt  is  well  past  sev- 
enty." 


98  A  DRAKE  BY  GEORGE ! 

"  But  I  thought  you  were  going  to  do  something 
great  and  wonderful  on  the  railway?  " 

"  That  was  an  idea,  but  I  can't  afford  to  leave  the 
place;  that's  another  secret,  Nellie,  and  I  wouldn't 
tell  any  one  but  you.  I  am  so  afraid  aunt  may  give 
away  the  vases.  She's  getting  a  bit  queer  in  her 
memory  too,  and  she's  always  giving  away  things. 
When  I  went  to  see  about  a  job  on  the  railway  she 
sent  a  lot  of  my  things  to  a  rummage  sale.  She  has 
given  Kezia  the  bed  she  sleeps  on,  and  a  lot  more 
things;  but  they  all  belong  to  me,  and  I  shall  claim 
them  when  she  dies." 

"  She  has  promised  me  the  round  table  in  the  par- 
lour," said  Nellie. 

"  Of  course  I  don't  mind  what  she  gives  you,"  said 
George  awkwardly. 

"  Many  thanks.  Now  I  must  go  and  put  on  the 
kettle  for  tea.  You  have  told  me  such  a  lot  about 
myself." 

"  Yes,  and  I've  got  still  more  to  say.  I  shall  have 
quite  three  thousand  pounds  —  and  my  tastes  are 
very  simple.  I  don't  expect  much,  and  I  don't  ask 
for  much.  It's  my  own  belief  that  I  can  put  up  with 
almost  anybody." 

"  Now  I'm  in  for  it ! "  Nellie  murmured,  with  a 
scorching  glance  at  the  somewhat  dejected  figure  in 
the  garden. 

"  I  have  always  flattered  myself,"  George  rambled 


99 

on,  with  the  feeling  that  eloquence  had  come  to  him 
at  last,  "  I  can  get  along  anyhow  with  any  one." 

"  You  mustn't  be  too  complimentary.  Flattery 
alone  is  not  worth  much,  you  know,"  she  said  care- 
lessly. 

"  I  mean  all  that  I  say,  and  —  and  I'm  not  so  idle 
as  they  make  out,  but  what's  the  good  of  breaking 
your  back  when  you  are  coming  into  thousands? 
It's  only  taking  a  job  from  some  other  fellow.  I 
can  draw  quite  well,  and  paint,  and  prune  roses,  and 
I  shall  have  all  my  uncle's  famous  furniture,  and 
the  house,  and  the  money  — " 

"  Oh,  for  goodness'  sake,  don't  keep  on  talking 
about  me,"  cried  Nellie. 

"  If  you  won't  let  me  say  anything  more,  I'll  write 
it  all  down,"  said  George  delightedly.  "  I  have 
tried,  but  it's  so  hard  to  find  a  word  to  rhyme  with 
Nellie,  while  Nell  is  just  as  bad.  Now  if  your  name 
had  been  Mary,  there's  dairy,  and  fairy,  and 
hairy  — " 

"  And  wary,"  laughed  the  girl,  as  she  ran  away 
from  the  window. 


CHAPTER  VII 

SCANDAL   AND    EXPOSURE 

SQUINTING  JACK  declared  there  were  some 
things  better  than  a  murder.  He  referred  to 
the  mystery  which  surrounded  the  unnatural 
tenants  of  Black  Anchor  Farm.  They  had  received 
a  visitor,  who  was  neither  honest  gentleman,  nor  re- 
spectable lady ;  but  a  woman  with  bold  red  cheeks. 
She  had  driven  through  Highfield,  staring  at  the  in- 
habitants and  smiling  at  their  dwelling-places;  her 
driver  had  inquired  of  the  first  gentleman  in  the  place 
—  George  being  set  up  above  the  vicar  because  he 
did  no  work  —  which  of  the  lanes  ahead  would  be 
most  likely  to  lead  towards  Black  Anchor;  and  a 
few  days  later  this  same  red-cheeked  lady  had  been 
driven  back  through  the  village,  staring  and  smiling 
as  before.  Her  clothes  where  the  saddest  part  about 
her ;  for  she  was  dressed  in  the  height  of  fashion. 

So  far  the  Dismal  Gibcat  had  defended  the  Brocks 
because  every  other  person  was  against  them ;  he 
admired  their  poverty  and  loved  their  humility ;  he 
prophesied  kindly  concerning  their  future,  and  sent 

them  superfluous  vegetables.     The  three  stages  of 

100 


SCANDAL  AND  EXPOSURE  101 

manhood  were  at  last  represented  in  Highfield  parish 
by  righteous  men:  old  Brock,  young  Sidney,  and  his 
middle-aged  self.  But  the  vision  and  visit  of  the 
painted  lady  caused  two  vacancies.  The  Dismal  Gib- 
cat  drew  the  line  at  well-dressed  women. 

The  Yellow  Leaf  was  consulted  because  of  his 
knowledge  of  the  world's  history,  and  he  gave  it 
as  his  opinion  that  the  atmosphere  of  Highfield  had 
been  deprived  by  the  nameless  visitor  of  a  consider- 
able amount  of  moral  oxygen:  in  the  first  place  she 
belonged  to  a  higher  class  than  the  Brocks ;  in  the 
second  place  she  came  upon  a  secret  mission,  and  in 
the  third  place  she  entered  a  house  which  it  was  noto- 
rious contained  no  other  woman.  She  could  not  be 
a  relation ;  while,  if  she  had  come  as  a  friend,  all  he 
could  say  was  heaven  preserve  Highfield  from  such 
friendships. 

"  Some  poor  folk  do  have  rich  relations,  though 
mine  ain't  come  along  yet,"  said  Squinting  Jack. 

"  What  would  you  be  saying  about  me,  if  I  wur 
to  receive  a  visit  from  a  young  lady  wi'  red-hot 
painted  cheeks  ?  "  inquired  the  Yellow  Leaf. 

"  I  should  say  you  wur  lucky,"  replied  Squinting 
Jack. 

"  Her  cheeks  wur  warmish,  I  allow ;  but  I  wouldn't 
exactly  call  'em  painted,"  observed  the  Dumpy  Phi- 
losopher. 

"  You'm  mixing  it  up  wi'  doorpost  paint.     Ask 


102  A  DRAKE  BY  GEORGE ! 

your  missus  if  her  cheeks  warn't  plastered  wi'  cos- 
metics," said  the  Yellow  Leaf  crossly. 

"  I'd  rather  not,"  retorted  the  Dumpy  Philosopher. 

"  There  be  two  ways  of  looking  at  pretty  nigh 
everything,  a  gude  way  and  a  bad  way,"  urged  the 
Gentle  Shepherd.  "  There  be  ladies  who  take  a 
kindly  interest  in  young  men,  and  try  to  help  'em 
along  a  bit.  Us  knows  the  Brocks  ain't  got  much 
money,  vor  they  ha'  took  the  poorest  farm  in  the 
whole  parish.  Maybe  this  lady  is  helping  young 
Sidney  a  bit,  and  her  come  along  to  see  how  he  wur 
doing." 

The  others  listened  doubtfully,  then  turned  to  hear 
the  oracle's  opinion. 

"  I  ha'  heard  tell  o'  such  ladies,  but  I  ain't  seen  one 
of  'em ;  and  I  wants  to  see  a  thing  avore  I  believes  — 
ay,  I  wants  to  see  it  two  or  dree  times,"  said  the 
Yellow  Leaf.  Then  he  asked,  "  How  old  do  you  say 
her  wur?  " 

The  Dumpy  Philosopher  fancied  the  region  of 
twenty ;  the  Gentle  Shepherd  thought  the  neighbour- 
hood of  forty;  while  Squinting  Jack  suggested  sec- 
ond childhood. 

"  You  can  tell  an  old  lady  when  you  sees  one,"  re- 
plied the  Yellow  Leaf,  "  and  you  can  tell  a  young 
maid  when  you  sees  one;  but  when  you  can't  tell 
whether  a  woman  be  old  or  young,  then  you'm  look- 
ing at  something  what  ain't  respectable.  'Tis  old 


SCANDAL  AND  EXPOSURE  103 

folk  what  be  charitable,  and  she  warn't  old ;  and  when 
young  ladies  be  charitable  to  young  men,  their  char- 
ity ain't  far  away  from  home,  I  reckon.  They 
Brocks  ha'  no  woman  to  mind  vor  'em;  'tis  because 
they  don't  dare  to ;  'tis  because  this  lady  wouldn't 
like  it,  and  they  can't  tell  when  she  may  be  coming. 
She'm  a  jealous  lady  vor  certain,  and  she  won't  have 
no  woman  to  Black  Anchor  'cept  it  be  herself.  And 
she  couldn't  come  to  the  farm  if  they  had  another 
woman,  vor  her  wouldn't  have  the  face  to  do  it." 

This  was  one  of  the  longest,  and  quite  the  wisest, 
of  all  the  opinions  stated  by  the  Yellow  Leaf.  Al- 
though it  could  hardly  add  to  his  reputation,  it  de- 
stroyed entirely  the  credit  of  the  Brocks. 

"  The  old  man  don't  hardly  ever  come  into  the 
village,  'cept  it  be  to  church,  and  he  don't  pass  the 
time  o'  day  to  no  one,"  said  the  Dumpy  Philosopher. 

"  Now  I  come  to  think  of  it,  young  Sidney  has  a 
funny,  uneducated  sort  o'  way  of  answering,"  added 
Squinting  Jack. 

"  They'm  mysteries,"  concluded  the  Yellow  Leaf, 
"  and  I  hopes  to  live  to  see  'em  all  exposed  to  the  vull 
light  o'  day." 

Robert  passed  this  scandal  to  Bessie,  and  she  hur- 
ried it  across  to  Kezia,  who  carried  it  while  still 
fresh  into  the  parlour,  and  presented  it  to  both  the 
ladies.  Miss  Yard  expressed  no  interest,  but  Mrs. 
Drake  was  painfully  distressed.  She  was  ageing 


104  A  DRAKE  BY  GEORGE! 

rapidly,  and  beginning  to  lose  her  memory  too ;  she 
had  forgotten  what  a  very  favourable  impression  the 
boy  had  made  upon  her. 

"  Are  you  quite  sure  she  did  go  to  Black  Anchor  ?  " 
Mrs.  Drake  inquired. 

"  Yes,  Aunt,"  said  George,  who  was  busy  design- 
ing locomotives.  "  She  asked  me  the  way  —  at  least 
the  driver  did.  They  were  both  strangers  to  me." 

"Quite  a  young  gal,  warn't  she,  Mr.  George?" 
appealed  Kezia. 

"  Not  more  than  eighteen,  I  should  think.  But 
she  wore  a  wedding-ring ;  I  saw  it  distinctly." 

"  Yes,  mum ;  I  saw  her  drive  past,  so  bold  and 
staring.  They  say  she's  an  actress,  mum." 

"  How  awful !     I  suppose  she's  his  wife." 

"  Well,  mum,  us  all  hopes  she  is." 

"  The  wretched  young  man !  How  can  he  be  so 
wicked ! " 

"  Is  anybody  wicked?  "  asked  Miss  Yard  vacantly. 

"  Never  mind,  Sophy.  It's  nobody  you  care 
about.  Has  she  been  told  ?  You  know  who  I  mean." 

"  Oh  no,  mum.  We  wouldn't  like  to  say  anything 
much  to  her.  But  of  course  she  mustn't  go  out  with 
him  any  more." 

"  Of  course  not,"  said  George  vigorously. 

"  I  suppose  I  must  break  it  to  her,"  said  Mrs. 
Drake.  "  And  he  sings  in  the  choir  too  —  miser- 
able wretch!" 


SCANDAL  AND  EXPOSURE  105 

"  I  warned  you,  Aunt,"  said  George. 

"  He  must  never  come  into  the  house  again.  Ask 
Robert  to  tell  him." 

*'  Oh  no,  mum !  We  couldn't  drink  coffee  with  him 
now.  He  seemed  such  a  nice  young  man  too.  Rob- 
ert thought  him  almost  like  a  gentleman." 

"  It's  often  these  nice  young  men  who  turn  out 
the  greatest  humbugs,"  said  Mrs.  Drake  severely. 

"  What  is  she  saying?  I  do  hope  there  are  no 
such  things  in  the  house,"  Miss  Yard  cried  anxiously. 

Nellie  was  thoroughly  well  told.  Kezia,  Bessie,  and 
Robert  were  alike  eager  to  play  the  part  of  candid 
friend  because  they  liked  her  so  much;  indeed,  they 
somewhat  overwhelmed  her  with  candid  affection. 
According  to  Bessie,  the  mysterious  lady  had  been 
overheard  imploring  Sidney  to  return  with  her ;  while 
Robert  declared  the  young  man  had  confessed  the 
whole  truth.  Kezia  could  invent  nothing,  so  con- 
tented herself  with  moaning  over  life's  tragedies  like 
the  chorus  of  a  Greek  play.  Nellie,  being  a  wise 
maid,  argued  with  nobody,  and  smiled  at  every  one; 
but  her  eyes  made  people  sorry  for  her ;  and  because 
of  their  sympathy  they  brought  yet  other  charges 
against  Sidney. 

Nellie  waited  for  choir-practice,  when  she  hoped  to 
hear  a  healthier  story.  She  expressed  no  gratitude 
when  the  heroic  George  offered  to  accompany  her  to 
church,  lest  the  dragon  Sidney  should  abduct  her 


106  A  DRAKE  BY  GEORGE! 

forcibly  and  add  her  to  his  collection  in  the  cupboard 
at  home.  He  explained  these  references  according 
to  the  best  of  his  historical  information,  quoting  the 
story  of  Bluebeard  at  some  length.  He  was  still 
talking  when  Nellie  escaped  from  the  house,  and 
went  to  church  by  herself. 

During  practice  the  other  members  of  the  choir 
shrank  from  Sidney,  as  if  afraid  he  should  make  some 
evil  communication ;  and  they  practised  the  hymns, 
which  were  of  a  penitential  nature,  at  him.  It  was 
never  the  custom  in  Highfield  to  allow  even  one  sin- 
ner to  go  unpunished. 

"  At  last ! "  exclaimed  Nellie,  when  they  were  out 
of  the  church  and  alone  together  in  Dartmoor  wind 
and  darkness.  "  Of  course  you  know  what  I  am 
going  to  say?  "  she  added. 

"  You'm  going  to  say  this  place  be  vull  o'  liars," 
suggested  Sidney. 

"  Oh  no,  indeed !  Our  friendship  is  quite  over,  and 
you  are  not  to  come  near  Windward  House  again." 

"What's  it  all  about,  Nellie?" 

"  You  know  perfectly  well.  I'm  walking  with  you 
this  evening  just  to  hear  what  you  have  to  say." 

"You  think  I'm  a  bad  lot?" 

"  I'm  getting  dreadfully  certain  of  it." 

"  Because  you've  heard  tales.  I  know  you'm  the 
prettiest  maid  in  the  world,  but  if  a  stranger  wur 
with  us  he  wouldn't  believe  me  if  I  said  so,  vor  'tis 


SCANDAL  AND  EXPOSURE  107 

too  dark  to  see  you.  You  can't  be  sure  of  anything 
you'm  told.  I'm  not  the  best  chap  in  the  world  by 
a  long  way,  but  if  you  could  see  me  'just  as  I  am,' 
as  we  wur  singing  in  church  just  now,  you  might 
fancy  I  b'ain't  quite  what  folks  make  me  out  to  be." 

Nellie  was  disturbed  by  this  speech,  and  still  more 
by  the  manner  in  which  it  was  uttered.  She  had  an 
uncomfortable  feeling  that  Sidney  was  trying  to  bring 
himself  down  to  her  level,  although  her  birth  and 
education  were  undoubtedly  superior  to  his. 

"  I  suppose  it's  easy  to  sing  like  that,  especially 
as  you  must  have  had  no  end  of  practice,"  she  said 
crossly. 

"  Now  you'm  out  o'  tune,  Nellie." 

'*  Miss  Blisland  has  discovered  you  have  made  a 
fool  of  her.  You  asked  her  to  —  to  —  well,  you 
know  what,  when  all  the  time  you  are  married  — " 

"  Here,  I  say,  steady !  I  didn't  know  it  had  got 
to  that,"  he  broke  in  sharply. 

"  Then  who  was  that  girl  who  came  to  see  you?  " 

"  She's  not  a  girl.  If  you  want  to  know  her  age, 
I'll  tell  you.  She  is  forty-three  —  and  I'm  nine- 
teen. Is  it  likely  I'd  be  married  to  a  lady  old  enough 
to  be  my  mother  ?  " 

"Who  is  she?" 

"  A  very  kind  lady  who  has  done  a  lot  vor  me.  Her 
name  is  Mrs.  Stanley." 

"  Then  she  is  married !  " 


108  A  DRAKE  BY  GEORGE! 

"  Her  husband's  been  very  kind  to  me  too." 

"  And  I  suppose  you  are  very  fond  of  her  ?  " 

"  Well,  that's  natural,  considering  what  she's  done 
vor  me." 

"  You  love  her ! "  cried  Nellie,  getting  out  of  pa- 
tience with  his  coldness. 

"  There's  some  one  I  love  better." 

"  And  that's  yourself,"  she  snapped. 

"  'Tis  the  pretty  maid  I'm  going  to  marry,  and 
that's  you." 

"  If  you  dare  to  say  such  a  thing  again,"  gasped 
Nellie,  "I'll  — I'll  run  away." 

"  You  can  run  t'other  end  of  the  world,  but  I 
shall  come  and  fetch  ye  back,"  declared  the  bold 
youth. 

"  What's  to  prevent  me  from  marrying  some  one 
else?" 

"Yourself,  I  fancy." 

"  But  I  never  did  like  you  much,  and  now  I  hate 
you,"  she  said,  troubled  again  by  his  accent,  which 
recalled  her  own  superior  education. 

"  If  you  won't  hate  me  any  more  than  what  you  do 
now,  I  shan't  grumble,"  replied  the  confident  young 
man.  Then  he  asked  gently,  "  Won't  you  come  out 
Sunday  afternoon  ?  " 

"  No,  I  will  not." 

"  I  could  tell  you  a  tale  what  might  make  us  sweet- 
hearts again,"  he  continued. 


SCANDAL  AND  EXPOSURE  109 

"  I  expect  there  is  hardly  any  sort  of  tale  that  you 
don't  know.  But  why  don't  you  ?  " 

"  I'm  going  to  make  you  believe  in  me  and  trust 
me." 

"  Tell  that  to  Mrs.  Stanley  —  I'm  sure  she's  a 
widow." 

"  I  trust  her,  and  she  knows  it.  I  told  her  about 
you,  and  she  wanted  me  to  promise  not  to  marry  till 
I'm  twenty-five." 

"  By  then,  I  suppose,  she'll  have  become  sick  and 
tired  of  you,"  said  Nellie,  who  was  rapidly  forming 
Highfield  opinions  about  Mrs.  Stanley. 

"  She  doesn't  mind  who  I  marry  — " 

"  How  perfectly  unselfish !  " 

"  So  long  as  'tis  the  right  sort  o'  maid." 

"  I  hope  you'll  find  her.  Good-night ;  I'm  going 
now,"  said  Nellie,  standing  beside  the  garden-gate  of 
Windward  House.  Then  she  added  rather  faintly, 
"  I'm  sorry  you  ever  came  to  Highfield." 

Sidney  struck  a  match  and,  making  a  lantern  of 
his  hands,  turned  the  light  upon  her  face. 

"  Oh,  Nellie  darling !  There's  a  tear  upon  your 
cheek ! " 

"  Don't  be  rude  and  wicked,"  she  murmured, 
searching  for  the  gate-handle,  which  she  generally 
found  quite  easily. 

"  The  beautifullest  tear  from  the  loveliest  eye  in 
the  world ! " 


110  A  DRAKE  BY  GEORGE! 

"What's  wrong  with  the  other  eye?"  she  asked 
trying  to  laugh. 

"It's  still  more  lovely.  Nellie,  you  are  —  just 
Nellie,  and  that  means  everything.  You  shall  trust 
me,  and  I'll  make  you  love  me,  if  I  have  to  work  a 
thousand  times  harder  than  I  do  on  the  farm." 

"  Will  you  have  nothing  more  to  do  with  Mrs. 
Stanley?" 

"  I  can't  do  that." 

"  You  mean  she  won't  give  you  up ! " 

"  She's  the  best  and  kindest  lady  in  the  world. 
But  you  come  first,  and  that's  where  you'll  be  al- 
ways." 

"  I  must  be  second  too.  It's  no  good,  Sidney. 
I'm  not  going  to  be  talked  about  and  laughed  at  — 
no  girl  can  stand  it.  Besides,  Mrs.  Drake  has  for- 
bidden me  to  speak  to  you,  and  my  poor  mistress 
would  go  crazy  if  she  knew  what  has  happened.  I 
have  a  good  home,  and  I  must  think  of  my  future. 
Leave  me  alone,  please,  and  let  me  forget  you.  But 
I  must  give  up  the  choir  and  sit  at  the  bottom  of 
the  church,  for  I  —  I  can't  sing  any  more." 

"  Is  that  you,  Nellie  ? "  called  Kezia ;  and  the 
faithful  band  of  protectors  and  consolers  appeared, 
putting  the  false  Sidney  to  flight. 

George  was  so  pleased  when  Nellie  did  not  go  out 
upon  Sunday  afternoon,  that  he  presented  her  with 
a  picture  of  his  latest  locomotive,  very  handsomely 


SCANDAL  AND  EXPOSURE  111 

designed,  but  without  cylinders.  He  began  about 
this  time  to  take  an  interest  in  his  personal  appear- 
ance, with  the  result  that  Mrs.  Drake,  who  was 
not  at  all  prejudiced  in  his  favour,  remarked  to 
Kezia  that  Mr.  George  was  undoubtedly  the  best- 
looking  man  in  the  place,  which,  after  all,  was  not 
much  of  a  compliment.  Kezia,  who  was  a  Drake  in 
everything  but  surname,  and  contemplated  assuming 
that  to  supply  her  own  deficiency,  agreed,  and  went 
on  to  mention  Mr.  George  was  regarded  as  the  per- 
fect pattern  of  an  English  gentleman  by  Highfield, 
where  all  geese  were  swans. 

Mrs.  Drake  was  simple  enough  to  believe  George 
was  preparing  himself  for  the  duties  of  station-mas- 
ter, and  he  more  than  suggested  this  was  indeed  the 
case ;  having  the  impudence  to  hint  at  negotiations 
for  various  stations  where  it  would  be  his  business 
to  receive  all  manner  of  royalties ;  but  the  letters  he 
received  were  of  such  a  confidential  nature  that  he 
was  not  at  liberty  to  show  them  to  his  aunt.  He 
convinced  her  they  were  all  typewritten,  and  this 
was  quite  sufficient  for  his  purpose,  because  the  old- 
fashioned  woman  supposed  letters  written  by  ma- 
chinery could  emanate  only  from  departments  under 
the  immediate  control  of  Ministers  of  State. 

The  cold-blooded  George  had  drawn  up  a  pro- 
gramme of  his  career  under  such  items  as  Courtship 
of  Nellie,  Annihilation  of  Sidney,  Conciliation  of 


A  DRAKE  BY  GEORGE ! 

Aunt,  Guarding  of  the  Furniture,  Departure  of  Aunt 
Sophy,  Contract  with  Nellie,  Departure  of  Aunt, 
Marriage  and  Retirement.  With  fine  prophetic  in- 
stinct a  date  was  appended  to  each  one  of  these 
events:  Miss  Yard  had  but  a  single  year  of  life 
remaining,  while  three  more  years  were  allotted  to 
Mrs.  Drake.  So  far  the  programme  was  well  ahead 
of  time,  owing  to  the  visit  of  Mrs.  Stanley. 

The  careful  mind  of  George  was  troubled  con- 
cerning his  forthcoming  marriage  and  subsequent  re- 
tirement. He  asked  himself  frequently  whether  it 
could  be  prudent  to  enter  into  a  matrimonial  alliance 
with  Nellie,  or  indeed  with  any  girl ;  was  a  wife  pref- 
erable on  the  whole  to  a  housekeeper?  George 
sought  the  opinion  of  the  Dismal  Gibcat,  who  re- 
plied that  the  house  presided  over  by  a  wife  was 
bound  to  be  respectable,  while  the  house  ruled  by 
spinster  or  widow  was  not;  besides,  a  housekeeper 
could  not  be  scowled  at  with  impunity,  whereas  a 
wife  might  easily  be  taught  all  the  accomplishments 
of  her  husband :  that  was  to  say,  if  the  husband  found 
it  necessary  to  slander  another  man,  or  to  deprive 
some  woman  of  her  character,  the  partner  of  his 
joys  and  sorrows  would  slander  these  persons  too; 
whereas  a  housekeeper  might  find  it  her  duty  to  de- 
fend them. 

Then  George  consulted  the  Yellow  Leaf,  who  was 
of  the  decidedly  robust  opinion  that  men  and  women 


SCANDAL  AND  EXPOSURE  113 

should  not  only  marry  as  early  as  possible,  but 
should  keep  on  doing  it  as  often  as  the  law  allowed; 
and  even  if  they  did  offend  against  the  law  some- 
times it  was  better  to  err  upon  the  right  side.  He 
alluded  to  his  own  brilliant  example  of  marrying 
at  eighteen,  with  the  happy  result  that  the  entire 
population  of  the  village  were  more  or  less  related 
to  him ;  and  he  went  on  to  declare  he  had  already 
appointed  a  successor  to  his  present  wife,  who  had 
been  bedridden  for  some  years. 

Although  George  had  doubts  some  remaining,  he 
arrived  sorrowfully  at  the  conclusion  that  it  would 
be  his  duty  to  make  Nellie  happy,  if  the  ladies  of 
Windward  House  should  respect  his  programme  and 
depart  from  the  world  according  to  scheduled  time. 
The  question  of  his  retirement  remained  the  only 
point  to  be  disposed  of.  Should  he  conclude  a  life 
of  usefulness  as  the  most  respected  parishioner  of 
Highfield,  or  favour  a  wider  circle?  Certainly  it 
would  be  more  agreeable  to  retire  in  a  village,  where 
respect  came  automatically,  than  to  run  the  risk  of 
being  dishonoured  in  some  town,  where  standing  at 
corners  or  musing  beside  lamp-posts  might  be 
wrongly  construed  as  revealing  instability  of  char- 
acter. 

It  might,  he  feared,  become  necessary  to  com- 
mence his  retirement  within  the  next  few  months, 
for  Mrs.  Drake  was  clearly  in  a  restless  frame  of 


114.  A  DRAKE  BY  GEORGE ! 

mind,  and  the  impending  failure  of  his  negotiations 
with  the  railway  company  might  induce  her  to  issue 
the  expulsion  order  which  Percy  would  be  called  upon 
to  execute.  In  such  case  George  decided  his  health 
would  be  forced  to  suffer  a  breakdown,  although  it 
might  be  possible,  now  Mrs.  Drake's  powers  were 
growing  defective,  to  assure  her  his  career  upon  the 
railway  was  finished ;  but,  unfortunately,  owing  to  his 
inability  to  serve  full  time,  he  enjoyed  no  pension. 

A  wet  day  assisted  George  in  making  a  discovery 
which,  although  not  altering  his  programme,  seemed 
to  promise  an  extension  of  the  indefinite  time  limit. 

"  I  want  to  go  to  the  sea.  Aunt  Sophy  worries 
so  about  her  friends,  and  I  can't  make  her  believe 
she  hasn't  got  any.  She  will  forget  all  about  them 
if  we  go  away.  When  are  you  going  to  your  sta- 
tion? "  asked  Mrs.  Drake,  while  Miss  Yard  looked 
up  plaintively  and  wanted  to  know  what  she  had 
done  now. 

"  Oh,  nothing.  I'm  telling  George  we  are  going 
to  the  seaside  directly  he  is  ready  to  leave." 

"  I  think  you  had  better  not  wait,"  said  George 
warningly. 

"  You  promised  to  go  this  month,"  his  aunt  said 
fretfully. 

"  Changes  have  occurred,  with  the  result  that  I 
have  now  broken  off  the  negotiations." 

"  Then  I  have  done  with  you ! " 


SCANDAL  AND  EXPOSURE  115 

"  I'm  so  glad  somebody  else  has  broken  some- 
thing," said  Miss  Yard  happily. 

George  left  the  room,  and  returned  presently  with 
an  armful  of  plans  and  diagrams. 

"  I  knew  they  existed,  and  at  last  I  have  found 
them,"  he  remarked  triumphantly. 

"  Take  away  your  rubbish !  "  said  Mrs.  Drake. 

"  My  uncle  made  these  plans.  These  diagrams 
were  the  solace  of  his  closing  years,"  said  George ; 
and  directly  he  had  spoken  his  aunt's  face  softened, 
and  she  fumbled  for  her  spectacles. 

"  My  dear  uncle  charged  me  to  carry  out  the 
work  if  he  should  not  live  to  complete  it.  These  are 
his  plans  for  a  railway  to  link  up  the  scattered 
parishes  of  this  moorland  region.  It  is  my  earnest 
hope,"  said  George,  "  that  I  may  be  permitted  to 
undertake  the  work  which  is  to  give  Dartmoor  a  rail- 
way and  Highfield  a  station." 

"  I  had  forgotten  all  about  it,"  Mrs.  Drake  mur- 
mured. 

"  I  did  not  forget,"  said  George  reprovingly.  "  I 
should  have  acted  long  ago,  if  I  could  have  found 
these  precious  plans.  Here  is  the  prospectus  in  dear 
uncle's  writing.  He  shows  how  simple  and  inexpen- 
sive it  would  be  to  build  a  railway  across  the  Dart- 
moor, without  a  single  viaduct,  tunnel,  embankment, 
or  cutting.  It  was  his  intention  to  make  Highfield 
Station  a  terminus,  as  he  could  not  see  his  way  to 


116  A  DRAKE  BY  GEORGE! 

surmount  the  steep  drop  into  the  valley  without  go- 
ing to  considerable  expense.  Now  you  can  under- 
stand why  it  is  no  longer  my  intention  to  occupy 
the  poorly  paid  position  of  station-master.  I  aim 
at  higher  things.  I  mean  to  be  a  railway  magnate." 

"  What  can  you  do  ?  "  asked  Mrs.  Drake,  much 
impressed  by  those  relics  of  her  husband. 

"  I  shall  communicate  with  my  railway  friends ;  I 
shall  float  a  company,  and  appoint  a  Board  of  Di- 
rectors; I  shall  pass  a  Bill  through  Parliament." 

"Whatever  is  George  doing?"  inquired  Miss 
Yard. 

"  Making  a  railway,"  replied  her  sister. 

"  I  wish  I  could  do  something  half  as  useful," 
sighed  Miss  Yard. 

George  borrowed  five  pounds  for  postage  stamps, 
converted  his  bedroom  into  an  office,  and  fed  the 
village  with  false  news  which  percolated  into  the 
ears  of  Mrs.  Drake  by  means  of  Robert  the  dripping- 
tap  and  Kezia  the  filter.  George  had  anticipated 
this,  and,  knowing  the  truthful  ways  of  the  village, 
was  not  greatly  astonished  when  Robert  informed 
him  in  confidence  how  engineers  had  already  been 
seen  taking  the  level  of  the  Dartmoor  heights ;  while 
the  parishioners  had  sworn  to  tear  up  the  railway 
as  fast  as  it  was  made,  unless  they  received  ample 
compensation  for  this  cynical  infringement  of  their 
rights. 


SCANDAL  AND  EXPOSURE  117 

What  he  had  not  anticipated  was  the  action  taken 
by  his  aunt.  Left  to  herself  she  would  have  re- 
mained credulous  to  the  end ;  but  Kezia  declared  Mr. 
George  was  not  spending  his  days  letter  writing; 
while  Bessie  stated  the  post-mistress  had  told  her 
Mr.  George  had  bought  no  stamps  lately. 

"  I  have  looked  into  his  room  and  seen  him  writ- 
ing," said  Mrs.  Drake  despairingly. 

"  He  wur  doing  poetry,  mum,"  said  Kezia  sadly. 

"  Oh,  I'm  sure  he's  not  so  bad  as  that,"  cried  the 
lady. 

"  I  don't  want  to  say  too  much,  mum,  and  I  ain't 
going  to  say  anything  against  Mr.  George,  whom 
you  might  call  a  member  of  the  family,"  continued 
Kezia  in  the  voice  of  doom,  "  but  I  saw  a  lot  of  the 
paper  he  had  wrote  some  of  his  poetry  on." 

"  I  saw  it  too,  mum,"  chimed  in  Bessie. 

"  And,  mum,  at  the  end  of  the  first  line  wur  six 
kisses." 

"  Crosses,  mum,"  exclaimed  Bessie,  as  an  expert 
in  this  form  of  literature. 

"  And  the  second  line  —  oh,  mum,  I  don't  know 
as  how  I  can  say  it." 

"  Shall  I  do  it  vor  ye?  "  asked  Bessie  eagerly. 

"  No,  Bess,  I'll  do  it.  He  said,  mum,  his  heart 
wur  all  jelly." 

"  Think  of  that,  mum !  "  gasped  Bessie. 

"Oh  no!     Not  jelly  again.     We  had  yesterday," 


118  A  DRAKE  BY  GEORGE! 

cried  Miss  Yard,  who  liked  to  be  consulted  concern- 
ing the  bill  of  fare. 

"  I  do  hope  the  poor  creature  isn't  going  off  his 
head,"  said  Mrs.  Drake. 

"  Don't  you  see,  mum,  that  word  wur  meant  to 
sound  like  the  word  at  the  end  of  the  first  line  what 
he  wrote  in  crosses.  And  you  know,  mum,  there's 
some  one  in  this  house  whose  name  do  have  the  same 
sort  of  sound  as  jelly." 

"  Ah,  but  she  b'ain't  so  soft,"  added  Bessie.  "  And 
he  wrote  she  was  so  bewitching,  drinking  cocoa  in 
the  kitchen.  That  was  a  rhyme,  mum." 

"  I  have  heard  quite  enough,"  said  Mrs.  Drake 
wearily.  "  I  wish  to  goodness  I  had  never  seen  the 
fellow,"  she  murmured. 

The  following  week  she  visited  the  Captain's 
grave,  staying  longer  than  usual,  and  scribbling  in- 
dustriously on  scraps  of  paper  the  whole  evening. 
Next  day  the  exodus  took  place,  Kezia  and  Nellie 
accompanying  the  ladies  to  the  seaside,  while  George 
remained  in  solitary  possession.  As  any  pretence 
of  industry  was  no  longer  necessary,  he  settled  down 
to  enjoy  a  honeymoon  with  indolence,  until  a  letter 
arrived  to  waken  him  completely. 

It  appeared  that  Mrs.  Drake  had  written  to  Percy, 
informing  him  of  all  George  had  said  and  not  done; 
also  asking  for  information  about  the  floating  of 
companies  and  the  construction  of  railways,  as,  she 


SCANDAL  AND  EXPOSURE  119 

explained,  George  had  decided  to  build  one  across 
Dartmoor,  and  was  inviting  Miss  Yard  and  herself 
to  become  debenture-holders. 

Percy's  answer  had  crushed  the  poor  lady  entirely. 
He  explained  that,  as  George  of  course  was  per- 
fectly well  aware,  to  obtain  a  position  as  station-mas- 
ter it  would  be  necessary  to  enter  the  service  of  the 
railway  company  as  a  clerk,  and  work  upwards  grad- 
ually. As  for  building  a  railway,  that  was  not  the 
recreation  of  a  single  individual,  but  a  superhuman 
undertaking,  which  in  the  first  place  would  require 
to  be  discussed  by  some  of  the  greatest  financial  mag- 
nates upon  earth  for  half  a  century  —  at  least  such 
was  his  own  impression  —  before  Parliament  could 
even  be  approached;  and  then  another  half  century 
would  probably  be  demanded  for  the  arrangement 
of  preliminary  details ;  and  after  that  a  new  genera- 
tion would  have  to  begin  the  work  all  over  again. 
While  the  suggestion  of  a  railway  across  Dartmoor 
could  appeal  only  to  a  Parliament  with  a  sense  of 
humour. 

Accordingly  Mrs.  Drake  disowned  her  nephew. 
She  ordered  him  to  depart  from  Highfield,  declar- 
ing also  her  intention  of  not  returning  to  Windward 
House  while  he  remained  there.  For  his  maintenance 
she  was  prepared  to  allow  the  sum  of  ten  shillings 
weekly  so  long  as  she  might  live.  Should  he  delay 
in  taking  his  departure,  Percy  would  instruct  some 


120  A  DRAKE  BY  GEORGE! 

gentleman  learned  in  the  law  to  hasten  the  evic- 
tion. And  if  he  took  anything  in  the  house  away 
with  him,  he  would  thereby  forfeit  all  benefits  un- 
der her  will. 

This  letter  made  the  world  seem  cold  to  George, 
who  strongly  suspected  Percy  had  dictated  the  puni- 
tory  clauses.  It  was  clear  that  his  reign  as  first 
gentleman  of  Highfield  was  over.  Not  being  of  that 
faint-hearted  disposition  which  abdicates  without  a 
struggle,  George  wrote  a  touching  letter  which  was 
also,  he  considered,  a  complete  vindication  of  his 
conduct;  for,  as  Mrs.  Drake  must  have  been  aware, 
he  had  suffered  from  his  spine  since  childhood. 

Then  he  packed  his  belongings  and  travelled  an 
hour's  journey  into  the  next  parish,  where  he  ar- 
ranged with  the  landlord  of  a  wayside  inn,  which 
bore  the  hospitable  title  of  "  Drink  and  be  Thank- 
ful," to  accommodate  him  with  board  and  lodging 
upon  especially  reduced  terms ;  and  from  this  alco- 
holic address  he  despatched  a  daily  apology  for  his 
existence  to  Mrs.  Drake,  each  document  more  poign- 
ant than  the  one  preceding  it.  His  aunt  sent  a 
cheque  for  a  quarter's  allowance,  which  George 
cashed  gratefully;  but  she  did  not  write.  That 
business  was  entrusted  to  Percy,  who  sent  an  ulti- 
matum, giving  George  forty-eight  hours  to  retire 
from  the  "  Drink  and  be  Thankful,"  and  warning  him 
that,  if  at  any  future  time  he  should  be  discovered 


SCANDAL  AND  EXPOSURE 

within  twenty  miles  of  Highfield  village  without  ob- 
taining a  permit,  his  prospects  would  be  marred  con- 
siderably. 

George  pronounced  a  malediction  against  Percy 
and  all  his  tomatoes.  Then,  as  compliance  seemed 
necessary  —  for  he  was  terribly  afraid  his  aunt 
might  destroy  her  will  —  he  decided  to  make  a  fare- 
well visit  to  Highfield,  in  order  that  he  might  muse 
amid  the  scenes  of  his  former  slothfulness,  and  in- 
form the  villagers  he  was  going  away  to  oppose  on 
their  behalf  the  promoters  of  the  Dartmoor  Railway 
Company. 

George  was  not  surprised  to  discover  the  door  of 
Windward  House  standing  open,  as  he  supposed  Bes- 
sie would  be  cleaning;  but  he  was  considerably  as- 
tonished to  behold  Miss  Yard  nodding  in  the  parlour, 
with  Nellie  on  her  knees  hard  by  extracting  the  in- 
different lady  from  a  web  of  wool  which,  with  amaz- 
ing thoroughness,  she  had  wound  about  herself. 
George  made  a  sign  to  the  girl  not  to  disturb  her 
mistress,  but  to  follow  him  as  soon  as  possible  into 
the  garden. 

"  What's  the  meaning  of  this  ?  "  he  asked,  hastily 
adding  that  he  was  not  at  all  sorry  to  see  her. 

"  Miss  Sophy  was  so  miserable  I  had  to  bring  her 
back.  When  we  went  away  she  thought  she  was  go- 
ing back  to  her  old  home ;  and  then,  when  she  couldn't 
recognise  anybody  she  kept  on  saying  she  was  for- 


122  A  DRAKE  BY  GEORGE! 

saken.  She  would  stop  people  in  the  street  and  ask 
them  where  she  lived,  and  if  they  didn't  remember 
her.  As  she  got  worse  every  day  I  had  to  bring 
her  back.  Aren't  you  living  here  now? "  asked 
Nellie. 

"  No,"  said  George  sadly.  "  You  gave  me  no  en- 
couragement." 

"  So  you  waited  until  I  was  out  of  the  house,  and 
then  you  ran  away  !  " 

"  My  aunt  and  I  have  now  agreed  to  differ.  How 
did  you  leave  her?  "  asked  George  pompously. 

"  Oh,  very  well.  In  fact,  Kezia  said  she  had  not 
seen  her  in  such  good  health  for  years." 

"  Miss  Yard  is  breaking  up,  I  think,"  said  George, 
thinking  of  his  programme,  which  was  suffering  sadly 
from  interference. 

"  Indeed  she's  not.  She  is  just  mazed  after  the 
journey,  as  they  say  about  here.  Then  you  are 
really  not  going  to  live  here  again  ?  " 

"  Not  for  the  present.  But  I  shall  write  to  you, 
Nellie,  at  least  once  a  week,  and  I  shall  think  of  you 
nearly  every  day." 

"  Thank  you.  Are  you  going  to  turn  black- 
smith?" 

"  Why  do  you  ask  a  ridiculous  question?  " 

"  We  have  been  playing  at  rhymes  lately ;  and  the 
only  rhyme  I  can  find  for  your  name  is  forge." 


SCANDAL  AND  EXPOSURE  123 

"  Nellie,"  said  George  heavily,  "  it  is  frivolous  con- 
duct like  this  which  breaks  a  man  up  completely." 

"  I'll  be  serious  then.  When  are  you  coming 
back?" 

"  Not  until  the  place  becomes  my  own.  My  aunt 
has  injured  me;  she  has  upset  all  my  plans.  I  do 
not  intend  to  speak  to  her  again  until  she  has  asked 
for  my  forgiveness." 

"  There  goes  the  gate !  "  cried  Nellie.  "  It's  sure 
to  be  Bessie.  If  you  don't  want  to  be  seen  here  — 
run !  "  she  laughed. 

"  I  do  not  stir  for  Elizabeth  Mudge." 

"  Or  budge  for  any  man,"  sang  teasing  Nellie. 
Then  her  note  changed,  for  the  postmistress  ap- 
peared from  behind  the  rhododendrons. 

"Why,  it's  Mrs.  Cann!  And  she's  got  a  tele- 
gram ! " 

"  Vor  you,  Miss  Blisland.  Very  bad  news,  miss. 
Terrible  news.  But  she  wur  an  old  lady,  and  'tis 
better  to  be  took  avore  you  knows  where  you  be  than 
to  see  it  coming.  I  hopes  and  prays  as  how  I'll 
be  took  the  like  way  —  selling  a  penny  stamp,  or 
licking  a  label,  or  doing  some  poor  soul  a  gude 
turn  by  giving  her  an  old-age  pension." 

She  went  rambling  on,  while  Nellie  tore  open  the 
telegram  and  read,  "  Mistress  passed  away  in  her 
sleep.  Kezia." 


A  DRAKE  BY  GEORGE ! 

She  shivered  slightly,  then  handed  it  to  George. 

"  Cruel  bad  news  vor  you,  sir,  especially  as  we'm 
all  so  sorry  to  hear  you  be  a  leaving  us,"  said  the 
postmistress. 

"  I  had  meant  to  go  away,"  replied  the  self-sacri- 
ficing and  sorrowful  reprobate.  "  But  I'm  afraid  I 
shall  have  to  change  my  plans  now." 


CHAPTER  VIII 

A    TANGLED    INHERITANCE 

GEORGE  formally  took  over  Windward 
House,  with  the  exception  of  his  aunt's 
bedroom,  the  door  of  which  was  locked. 
Bessie  admitted  she  held  the  key,  but  was  not  going 
to  give  it  up  to  anybody  except  Kezia.  In  the  mean- 
time, Miss  Yard  wandered  about  the  house,  declar- 
ing that  Maria  had  always  been  able  to  look  after 
herself,  scolding  Nellie  for  wearing  black,  "  and 
making  yourself  look  so  small  I  can't  see  you,"  driv- 
ing away  Bessie  by  waving  her  hands  and  calling 
"  Shoo !  "  but  delighted  with  George  because  he  looked 
bright  and  cheerful. 

"  Maria  has  been  making  up  the  past  again,"  she 
said  plaintively.  "  She  told  me  I  was  good  for  noth- 
ing, and  she  wouldn't  have  me  here  any  longer.  She 
keeps  all  my  friends  away  from  me  —  and  now  she 
has  hidden  my  money." 

"  We'll  look  for  it,"  said  Nellie,  glad  of  the  excuse 
to  lure  her  back  into  the  parlour.  "  I  expect  it  is 
hidden  in  one  of  the  usual  places  —  inside  the  clock, 
or  on  top  of  the  bookcase." 

125 


126  A  DRAKE  BY  GEORGE! 

"  It's  no  good  looking  there,  Nellie.  I  have 
searched  the  whole  house  —  and  my  cheque-book  has 
gone  too.  My  sister  takes  everything  away  from  me." 

A  pleasant  quarter  of  an  hour  was  spent  in  search- 
ing for  the  missing  bag  of  money,  which  had  been 
secreted  with  more  than  usual  ingenuity.  These 
games  of  hide-and-seek  were  of  daily  occurrence, 
as  Miss  Yard  would  hide  away  everything  she  pos- 
sessed, and  then  accuse  the  others  of  robbery  by  vio- 
lence. On  this  occasion  the  little  bag  containing  her 
spare  cash  had  been  deposited  behind  the  register ; 
George  made  the  discovery  after  noticing  a  heap 
of  soot  upon  the  fender;  and  Miss  Yard  was  more 
delighted  with  him  than  ever. 

"  Percy  always  does  the  right  thing,"  she  declared. 
"  He  wrote  to  that  horrid  man  who  said  he  was  go- 
ing to  come  and  live  here.  Nellie,  remind  me  to- 
morrow to  pay  off  a  mortgage  on  his  railway." 

"  Percy  grows  tomatoes,  Aunt.  I  am  George,  and 
I'm  here  to  look  after  you,"  explained  that  gentle- 
man uncomfortably. 

"  How  silly  people  are !  "  said  Miss  Yard.  "  Of 
course  it's  tomatoes,  and  not  railways.  I  don't  know 
why  they  talk  about  railways,  but  I  suppose  it's  be- 
cause Nellie  and  I  missed  a  train  the  other  day. 
Everybody  mixes  up  George  and  Percy,  but  one  is 
quite  as  good  as  the  other.  One  quality  only,  and 
that's  the  best.  Now  I  wonder  where  I  read  that." 


A  TANGLED  INHERITANCE          127 

Then  she  opened  the  canvas  bag  and  gave  George 
ten  shillings  because  he  was  so  clever;  and  she  gave 
a  sovereign  to  Nellie  because  she  was  so  good ;  but 
she  refused  to  give  Bessie  a  present,  as  she  felt  posi- 
tive that  young  woman  had  conspired  with  Mrs. 
Drake  to  hide  away  her  money. 

"  I  must  write  to  Maria  and  tell  I've  found  it,  and 
ask  her  to  forget  the  past  like  I  do  and  begin  all 
over  again,"  she  said,  shuffling  to  her  writing-table, 
where  nearly  every  day  she  wrote  letters  which  Nellie 
subsequently  destroyed. 

"  Don't  try  to  make  her  understand,"  said  this 
young  lady  to  George.  "  I  have  told  her  Mrs.  Drake 
is  dead,  and  she  quite  realised  it,  but  a  minute  later 
had  forgotten  all  about  it.  It's  no  use  worrying  her. 
She  has  no  memory,  and  hardly  any  mind,  left ;  but 
she  is  perfectly  healthy  and  enjoys  life  thoroughly. 
Really,  it  isn't  such  a  bad  state  to  be  in  after  all." 

George  rather  looked  forward  to  the  funeral,  as 
he  meant  to  enjoy  a  settlement  with  Percy,  who 
arrived  only  just  in  time  to  join  the  others  in  the 
churchyard.  Mrs.  Drake's  bedroom  had  been 
opened  the  day  before:  George  discovered  the  will, 
while  Kezia  made  off  with  the  box  which  had  al- 
ways stood  upon  the  chest  of  drawers. 

After  the  ceremony  they  returned  to  Windward 
House.  Presently  George  and  Percy  went  into  the 
garden  to  discuss  business,  assuming  a  brotherly  af- 


128  A  DRAKE  BY  GEORGE ! 

fection,  although  George  felt  sure  Percy  entertained 
nothing  but  evil  thoughts  concerning  him. 

"  That  was  rather  a  nasty  letter  you  wrote  to  me, 
old  chap  —  about  clearing  out  of  the  place,  you 
know,"  he  began  reproachfully. 

"  Aunt  asked  me  to  write  it,  and  of  course  I  had 
to.  I  don't  want  to  rub  it  in,  George,  but  you  de- 
ceived the  old  lady  badly,  and  you've  been  a  fright- 
ful slacker,"  replied  Percy. 

"  If  it  comes  to  deceit,  I  expect  you  put  your  best 
tomatoes  on  top  of  the  basket,"  said  George,  open- 
ing a  line  of  attack  which  made  Percy  cough  un- 
easily, before  he  attempted  to  point  out  the  differ- 
ence between  deceiving  hostile  tradesmen  and  affec- 
tionate relatives.  "What  do  you  propose  doing?" 
he  asked. 

"  This  is  my  home,"  replied  George  firmly. 
"  Somebody  must  be  here  to  look  after  Aunt  Sophy, 
keep  up  the  property,  and  look  after  the  servants." 

"  I  suppose  the  place  belongs  to  Aunt  Sophy  now, 
and  in  that  case  it  will  come  to  me,"  said  Percy 
sternly. 

"  Grab  it  all,  old  chap !  "  exclaimed  George  mock- 
ingly. 

"  It's  like  this,"  said  Percy  sharply.  "  I'm  one 
of  the  trustees  of  the  Yard  estate,  and  Hunter  is  the 
other.  I  dare  say  you  have  heard  the  aunts  mention 
Hunter;  he's  a  partner  in  Martin  and  Cross,  the 


A  TANGLED  INHERITANCE          129 

family  solicitors.  I  needn't  go  into  the  details  of 
Mr.  Yard's  will,  but  of  course  you  know  Aunt  Maria 
enjoyed  only  a  life  interest  in  her  share.  Aunt 
Sophy  now  inherits  the  lot,  but  she  can't  touch  the 
capital,  all  of  which  comes  to  me  at  her  death. 
That's  the  position." 

"  And  here's  mine !  Oblige  me  by  running  your 
eye  over  this,  my  dear  chap,"  invited  George,  pro- 
ducing his  aunt's  will. 

Percy  did  so,  frowning  considerably,  and  when  he 
had  finished  tried  to  mutter  a  few  words  of  congratu- 
lation. 

"  Not  so  bad,"  chuckled  George.  "  The  whole 
place  is  mine,  and  everything  in  it.  Aunt  Sophy  is 
now  my  tenant." 

"  There's  no  mention  of  the  house,"  objected 
Percy. 

"  Read  this  — '  all  I  die  possessed  of.'  The  prop- 
erty belonged  to  aunt ;  left  her  by  my  uncle." 

"  But  she  bought  the  ground  and  built  the  house," 
cried  Percy. 

"  Out  of  income,"  said  the  triumphant  George. 

"  I  suppose  you'll  be  sending  this  to  Martin  and 
Cross?" 

"  It  goes  this  evening  by  registered  post.  Aunt 
Sophy  won't  leave  Highfield.  She  will  be  enjoying 
the  use  of  my  house  and  my  furniture.  In  return  she 
can  give  me  board  and  pocket-money.  Quite  a  de- 


130  A  DRAKE  BY  GEORGE ! 

cent  scheme,  old  chap.  Everybody  satisfied!  No 
grumblers ! " 

"  I  didn't  know  anything  about  this  will,"  mut- 
tered Percy. 

"  You  can't  object  to  my  staying  here  now  —  you 
can't  order  me  out,  my  dear  old  chap.  Nice  little 
property,  isn't  it?"  cried  George  riotously. 

Percy  had  not  much  more  to  say,  especially  as  he 
seemed  in  a  hurry  to  catch  a  train  which  would  carry 
him  towards  London  and  Mr.  Hunter's  office.  Im- 
mediately he  had  departed,  Kezia  approached  and 
asked,  "  Can  I  speak  to  you  vor  a  minute,  please?  " 

"  Certainly,"  replied  the  prosperous  George,  fol- 
lowing her  into  the  dining-room,  where  Bessie  tow- 
ered beside  the  table  upon  which  reposed  the  sandal- 
wood  box  taken  from  the  late  mistress's  bedroom. 
George  could  not  help  noticing  what  a  quantity  of 
waste  paper  appeared  to  be  lying  about. 

"  This  wur  lying  on  the  top,"  explained  Kezia, 
presenting  a  slip  upon  which  was  written  in  his  late 
aunt's  handwriting,  "  This  box  is  the  property  of 
Kezia,  who  has  served  me  faithfully  since  her  child- 
hood." 

"  I  ha'  been  wi'  her  forty  years,  and  I  don't  know 
how  I  shall  get  along  without  her.  I  feels  as  though 
she  can't  be  gone  vor  ever,  and  will  soon  be  coming 
back  again  maybe,"  Kezia  continued. 


A  TANGLED  INHERITANCE          131 

"  She  knows  what  be  going  on.  She  can  see  me, 
and  you,  and  Mr.  George,  and  she  can  tell  what  he'm 
thinking  of,"  added  Bessie. 

"  Went  just  like  the  Captain,  all  to  once  and  no 
fuss.  She  said  to  me  many  a  time,  '  I  wants  to  go 
like  him,  Kezia,  nice  and  quick.'  So  she  did,  poor 
dear !  Lay  down,  and  went  to  sleep,  and  never  woke 
up  again  this  side  Jordan.  And  the  last  thing  she 
said  wur,  *  Kezia,  I  ain't  felt  so  well  as  I  be  feeling 
now  vor  I  can't  tell  ye  how  long.' ' 

"  They  'm  always  like  that,"  said  Bessie. 

"  What  are  all  these  papers  ?  "  asked  George. 

"  These  be  mine,"  said  Kezia,  taking  one  bundle. 
"  Those  belong  to  Bess.  This  one  is  vor  Miss  Sophy. 
And  this  one  is  vor  Nellie." 

"  Wasn't  there  one  vor  Mr.  Percy  ?  "  inquired 
Bessie. 

"  Here's  something  on  the  floor,"  said  George.  He 
picked  up  the  scrap  of  paper  and  read,  "  I  should 
like  Percy  to  have  something  to  remember  me  by. 
He  can  take  the  pair  of  silver  candlesticks  given  me 
by  his  mother  as  a  wedding  present." 

"  He  can't  have  them,"  said  Bessie,  looking  across 
at  Kezia. 

"  No,  that  he  can't,"  said  Kezia,  staring  rather 
uneasily  at  Bessie. 

"  What  are  all  these  papers  ?  "  George  demanded, 


A  DRAKE  BY  GEORGE ! 

feeling  in  his  pocket,  to  make  sure  that  the  will  was 
safe. 

"Will  ye  please  to  read  'em?"  replied  Kezia,  ex- 
tending her  bundle. 

George  opened  the  first  and  read,  "  I  want  Kezia 
to  have  all  the  furniture  in  her  bedroom,  also  six 
dining-room  chairs,  my  sofa,  and  the  largest  book- 
case." The  second  paper  included,  for  Kezia's  bene- 
fit, much  of  the  furniture  in  the  parlour,  together 
with  "  the  pair  of  silver  candlesticks  given  me  by 
Louisa  as  a  wedding  present."  The  third  paper  men- 
tioned most  of  the  articles  in  Mrs.  Drake's  bed- 
room, with  the  grandfather  clock,  the  Chinese  vases, 
"  and  anything  else  Mr.  George  does  not  want." 
And  so  the  lists  ran  on,  until  Kezia  had  been  left 
everything  in  the  house  several  times  over. 

Then  Bessie  proffered  her  bundle  with  a  sorrow- 
ful smile.  First  of  all  she  was  to  have  the  bed  she 
had  once  slept  on,  then  all  the  furniture  in  her  bed- 
room, much  of  that  in  the  parlour,  half  of  that  in 
the  dining-room,  with  "  the  pair  of  silver  candle- 
sticks given  me  by  Louisa  as  a  wedding  present," 
most  of  the  ornaments  including  the  Chinese  vases, 
the  Egyptian  mummy,  and  "  any  other  little  thing 
Mr.  George  does  not  care  about." 

Nellie  was  to  have  the  round  table  in  the  parlour, 
which  had  been  already  bestowed  upon  both  Kezia 


A  TANGLED  INHERITANCE          133 

and  Bessie.  While  Sophy  was  requested  to  take  the 
musical-box  and  "  the  pair  of  silver  candlesticks 
given  me  as  a  wedding  present  by  Louisa." 

"  This  is  a  nice  business ! "  George  muttered. 

"  Seems  to  be  rather  a  lot  of  mixing  up,  don't  it !  " 
said  Bessie. 

"  I  can  see  what  has  happened,"  George  continued. 
"  Poor  old  aunt  never  had  much  of  a  memory,  and, 
when  she  put  away  one  of  these  papers  in  the  box, 
she  forgot  about  the  others.  Some  of  them  were 
written  when  I  was  a  child  —  the  ink  is  beginning 
to  fade  —  while  others  are  quite  recent." 

"  She  would  write  'em  in  the  evening.  I've  seen 
her  doing  it.  And  when  she  went  into  her  bedroom, 
she  would  put  it  into  the  box  quick  and  lock  it  up. 
She  wouldn't  let  no  one  touch  that  box,"  said  Kezia. 

"  You  see  she  wanted  to  leave  you  something  to 
remember  her  by,  and  she  never  looked  into  the  box 
to  see  what  she  had  written." 

"  I  suppose  we  mustn't  take  the  things  now  ? " 
asked  Bessie  hurriedly. 

"  Nothing  wur  to  be  touched,  Bess,  while  Miss 
Sophy  lived.  Even  Mr.  George  warn't  to  touch  any- 
thing," said  Kezia  with  unnecessary  irony ;  since, 
according  to  these  scraps  of  paper,  George  had  noth- 
ing to  take. 

"  I  have  the  will  which  was  made  soon  after  I  came 


A  DRAKE  BY  GEORGE! 

to  live  with  my  uncle  and  aunt.  There  is  no  mention 
of  Miss  Yard,"  said  George  firmly. 

"  Mrs.  Drake  wrote  a  paper  and  gave  it  to  Miss 
Sophy.  And  Miss  Sophy  wrote  a  paper  and  gave  it 
to  Mrs.  Drake.  Here  it  is ! "  exclaimed  Kezia,  div- 
ing to  the  bottom  of  the  box,  which  contained  brooches 
and  other  trinkets  dropped  in  from  time  to  time. 
"  You  see,  Mr.  George,  *  If  I  die  before  Maria,  all  my 
furniture  is  to  belong  to  her.'  And  'tis  signed  Sophy 
Yard." 

"What  did  my  aunt  write  on  her  paper?  "  cried 
George,  as  a  horrible  thought  flashed  across  his  mind. 

"  Just  the  same.  If  she  died  avore  Miss  Sophy, 
everything  she  possessed  wur  to  belong  to  her." 

"  And  she  has  died  before  Aunt  Sophy  after  all," 
George  muttered. 

"  Why,  so  she  has  I  I  never  thought  of  that 
avore,"  said  Bessie. 

George  refused  to  discuss  the  matter  further, 
pointing  out  that  nothing  could  be  done  during  Miss 
Yard's  lifetime,  although  he  had  no  intention  of  re- 
maining inactive  until  then.  Escaping  into  a  quiet 
place,  he  sought  to  find  a  solution  of  the  problem 
thus  suddenly  presented  to  him.  By  a  properly  at- 
tested will  the  entire  furniture  of  Windward  House 
had  been  left  to  him;  this  furniture  had  been  left 
also  to  Miss  Yard  by  a  rough  kind  of  agreement; 


A  TANGLED  INHERITANCE          135 

the  same  furniture  had  been  bestowed  upon  Kezia 
by  means  of  a  number  of  scraps  of  paper  which  were 
certainly  not  legal  documents ;  while  the  greater  part 
of  the  furniture  had  been  also  bequeathed  to  Bessie 
by  means  of  similar  scraps  of  paper.  The  conclu- 
sion arrived  at  by  George  was  that  the  will  must  pre- 
vail over  all  other  documents,  although  it  was  diffi- 
cult to  see  how  he  could  prevent  pilfering;  and  his 
final  wise  decision  was  to  preserve  silence  concern- 
ing these  scraps  of  paper  in  all  his  subsequent  deal- 
ings with  Messrs.  Martin  and  Cross  and  Mr.  Percy 
Taverner. 

"  I  feel  sure  Kezia  and  Bessie  cannot  claim  any- 
thing, but  I'm  afraid  the  lawyers  may  say  the  will  is 
cancelled  by  the  document  given  to  Aunt  Sophy," 
George  muttered.  "  But  then  they  needn't  know 
anything  about  it.  All  the  business  will  be  done 
through  the  trustees  and  myself.  They  don't  know, 
and  I  shan't  tell  them.  I'd  better  strike  up  a  friend- 
ship with  Percy ;  I'll  conciliate  him ;  I'll  sacrifice  the 
pair  of  silver  candlesticks." 

He  went  home,  sealed  the  will  in  an  envelope,  and 
addressed  it  to  Messrs.  Martin  and  Cross.  Then 
wrote  to  Percy,  explaining  his  discovery  of  a  scrap 
of  paper  written  by  their  late  aunt,  expressing  a  wish 
that  the  candlesticks  should  be  given  to  him  upon 
her  death.  "  Of  course  they  are  mine  really,"  he 


136          A  DRAKE  BY  GEORGE! 

wrote,  "  but  I  feel  that  I  ought  to  respect  her  wishes, 
especially  as  the  candlesticks  were  given  her  as  a 
wedding  present  by  your  mother." 

Kezia  and  Bessie  remained  chattering  vigorously 
after  George  departed  from  them,  but  neither  ven- 
tured to  speak  upon  the  subject  which  threatened 
to  convert  friendship  into  rivalry.  It  was  true,  ow- 
ing to  an  unfortunate  slip  of  the  tongue,  Bessie  men- 
tioned how  grand  the  silver  candlesticks  would  look 
upon  her  mantelpiece;  but  Kezia  merely  replied  that 
Mrs.  Drake  had  been  very  generous  to  Mr.  George  in 
leaving  him  a  will  as  a  remembrance  of  her,  although 
she  presently  administered  a  rebuke  by  speaking 
about  her  future  retirement,  when  she  looked  for- 
ward to  reading  her  books  of  religious  instruction  by 
the  light  of  wax  candles  set  in  the  candlesticks  afore- 
said. To  which  Bessie  replied  somewhat  feebly  they 
wouldn't  be  of  any  use  to  Miss  Yard  because  she  used 
a  reading-lamp.  She  could  not  trust  herself  to  say 
more,  but,  when  gathering  up  her  share  of  the  testa- 
mentary documents  preparatory  to  departure,  an- 
other idea  occurred,  and  she  asked,  "  Who  do  the 
house  belong  to  ?  " 

"  Mrs.  Drake  said  to  me  a  lot  of  times  it  wur  to 
go  to  Miss  Sophy." 

"  Who  gets  it  when  she  dies  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know.  If  nobody  else  wants  it,  I  don't 
mind  taking  it,"  said  Kezia, 


A  TANGLED  INHERITANCE          137 

"  Mr.  George  is  sure  to  ask  vor  it,"  said  Bessie, 
moving  slowly  towards  the  door. 

"  Well,  he  won't  get  it,"  replied  Kezia  sharply. 

Bessie  crossed  the  road  and  welcomed  Robert  from 
the  bakery  with  the  announcement  that  a  domestic 
crisis  was  impending.  Robert  studied  the  docu- 
ments, and  agreed  with  his  wife  they  would  certainly 
be  called  upon  to  fight  for  their  rights.  Then  he 
asked  for  information  concerning  George,  and  Bes- 
sie replied,  "  He  ain't  to  get  nothing." 

"  Didn't  Mrs.  Drake  leave  'en  a  will?  "  questioned 
the  cautious  Robert. 

"  Kezia  ses  it  ain't  really  a  will.  It's  a  codicil, 
and  that  means  he  gets  nothing  'cept  the  little  bit  o' 
money  in  the  bank,  and  he'll  have  to  pay  out  all  that 
vor  the  funeral  expenses.  Miss  Sophy  gets  the 
house,  and  me  and  Kezia  has  the  furniture." 

"  Then  Mr.  George  is  ruined !  "  exclaimed  Robert. 

"  Best  thing  what  could  happen  to  'en,"  said  Bes- 
sie. 

Robert  had  his  tea,  then  went  out  into  the  village 
to  report.  Since  the  days  when  he  had  first  gazed 
upward,  fascinated  by  the  altitude  of  Bessie's  wind- 
swept features,  he  had  acted  as  an  intermediary  be- 
tween Windward  House  and  the  general  public,  bring- 
ing the  scandal,  fresh  and  greasy  as  his  own  dough- 
nuts ;  and  bearing  to  the  village  green  —  which  was 
not  so  green  as  it  sounded,  for  the  signpost  repre- 


138  A  DRAKE  BY  GEORGE! 

sented  a  rising  sun  —  valuable  items  of  information 
regarding  Mrs.  Drake's  most  recent  act  of  charity, 
or  Miss  Yard's  latest  partition  of  a  tea-service.  On 
this  occasion  he  brought  news  which  was  to  set  all 
the  tongues  wagging:  George  Drake,  the  most  re- 
spected man  in  Highfield,  the  sole  gentleman,  the 
fearless  idler,  was  now  a  homeless  fellow,  a  destitute 
person,  without  a  scrap  of  inheritance  he  could  call 
his  own.  The  Drake  whom  they  had  honoured  as  a 
swan  was  hardly  worth  the  price  of  a  goose. 

A  gentleman  was  not  defined  by  the  worthies  of 
Highfield  as  a  man  of  good  birth,  but  as  one  who  de- 
clined all  labour.  George  had  fulfilled  this  definition 
admirably.  An  idler,  it  was  argued,  possessed  ample 
means,  and  for  that  cause  he  was  respected.  High- 
field  required  nothing  further  of  him,  except  that  he 
should  wear  decent  clothing  and  not  be  seen  with  his 
coat  off,  digging  potatoes  or  nailing  two  pieces  of 
board  together ;  even  the  picking  of  peas  was  a 
dangerous  pastime,  while  mowing  the  lawn  would 
have  meant  an  irremediable  loss  of  caste.  It  could 
honestly  be  said  of  George  that  he  had  done  nothing 
disgraceful ;  he  had  kept  his  hands  clean ;  he  was 
far  more  of  a  gentleman  than  his  uncle  had  been. 
And  now  he  was  exposed  as  a  common  impostor  who 
had  been  wearing  an  order  of  chivalry  to  which  he 
was  not  entitled. 

"  I  always  thought,"  said  the  Wallower  in  Wealth, 


A  TANGLED  INHERITANCE  139 

who,  above  all  men,  had  respected  George,  "  that 
when  Mrs.  Drake  died  he  would  have  her  money." 

Everybody  in  the  place  had  thought  the  same ;  and 
were  now  to  realise  that  George  had  bitterly  deceived 
them. 

"  He  don't  get  nothing,"  declared  Robert.  "  The 
furniture  comes  to  Bessie,  and  the  house  goes  to  Miss 
Yard." 

"What  do  old  Kezia  get?"  inquired  a  charitable 
voice. 

"  What  me  and  Bessie  like  to  give  her,"  replied 
Robert. 

George  went  to  sleep  that  night  sure  of  his  posi- 
tion as  the  most  popular  man  in  Highfield  parish ;  for 
everybody  knew  how  the  odious  scheme  of  a  Dart- 
moor railway  had  been  brought  to  nothing  owing  to 
his  strenuous  opposition.  Nor  did  he  suppose,  upon 
going  into  the  village  the  following  morning,  that  his 
glory  had  departed.  He  was  therefore  unpleasantly 
surprised  to  be  greeted  by  nodding  of  heads,  and  no 
longer  by  hands  uplifted  to  the  forehead.  Highfield 
nodded  to  equals,  and  touched  hats  to  superiors. 
George  did  not  like  the  omen. 

The  Yellow  Leaf  was  enjoying  a  large  slice  of 
bread  upon  which  butter,  cream,  and  jam  were  piled 
in  lavish  quantities ;  and  when  George  inquired  after 
Mrs.  Y.  Leaf,  he  received  the  answer,  spoken  with 
some  asperity : 


140  A  DRAKE  BY  GEORGE ! 

"  Her  be  tedious  this  morning.  Ses  her  be  going 
quick,  and  I  be  to  hurry  after ;  but  I  tells  she  I  b'ain't 
agoing  to  hurry." 

"Would  you  like  to  buy  my  giant  tortoise?  I'll 
sell  him  for  five  shillings,"  George  continued. 

"What  would  I  do  wi'  a  tor-toys?"  asked  the 
Yellow  Leaf  with  great  deliberation. 

"  It's  a  nice  friendly  animal,"  explained  George. 

"Would  he  make  gude  eating?"  asked  the  Yel- 
low Leaf. 

"  Might  be  a  bit  tough,  but  he'd  make  splendid 
soup,"  said  George. 

"  I  ha'  no  craving  vor  gigantic  tor-toyses, 
thankye.  And  if  I  did  crave  vor  'en,  how  be  I  to 
know  he'm  yours  to  sell  ?  " 

"  Of  course  it's  mine.  Everything  belongs  to  me," 
said  George  sharply. 

"  Then  you  have  been  told  lies." 

"  I  ha'  heard  another  tale." 

"  I  hears  plenty  o'  they.  Don't  ye  ever  think  o' 
driving  that  old  toat  of  a  tor-toys  into  my  garden, 
vor  if  you  does  I'll  kick  'en."  And  with  these  words 
the  Yellow  Leaf  withdrew  into  his  cottage,  munch- 
ing severely  at  his  bread  and  jam. 

Bessie  has  been  talking,  thought  George,  as  he 
went  along  the  road,  to  pause  beside  a  potato-patch 
where  Squinting  Jack  was  whistling  as  he  worked. 


A  TANGLED  INHERITANCE          141 

He  looked  up  and  nodded,  then  went  on  digging,  while 
George  drew  near  and  remarked: 

"  I'm  selling  off  the  animals." 

"  Sorry  I  b'ain't  a  butcher,  sir,"  said  Squinting 
Jack. 

"  I've  got  a  very  good  half  Persian  cat  for  sale  at 
two  shillings,"  George  continued. 

"  How  much  would  ye  charge  vor  the  whole  cat?  " 
asked  Squinting  Jack. 

"  I  mean  it's  part  Persian." 

"  Which  part?  "  asked  the  humourist. 

George  laughed  somewhat  feebly,  while  Squinting 
Jack  continued,  "  I've  got  a  whole  English  cat  what 
you  can  have  vor  nothing." 

By  this  time  George  had  discovered  he  was  not  so 
well  liked  as  formerly,  and  the  reason  was  not  far  to 
seek:  Kezia  and  Bessie  were  advertising  their  own 
triumph  and  trumpeting  his  misfortunes.  George 
went  a  long  walk,  climbed  a  steep  hill,  and  sat  upon 
the  summit,  trying  to  work  out  a  plan  of  campaign 
which  might  enable  him  to  obtain  the  victory  over  all 
his  enemies. 

"  Why  not  shift  the  responsibility  ?  "  he  muttered 
at  length.  "  That's  the  plan  right  enough  —  shift 
it  on  to  Percy.  He  wants  to  run  the  whole  show  — 
why  not  let  him?  " 

George  meditated  yet  more  deeply,   rubbing  his 


A  DRAKE  BY  GEORGE! 

head  which  was  nothing  like  so  dense  as  his  relations 
had  supposed.  "  Percy  means  to  do  me,  so  it's  my 
duty  to  do  him.  When  you  want  to  catch  anything 
you  set  a  trap.  And  now  I've  got  it ! "  George 
shouted  exultantly.  "  I'll  tempt  Percy  with  the  fur- 
niture —  I'll  get  him  to  buy  it !  Then  I  shall  have 
the  cash,  while  he  can  settle  with  Kezia  and  Bessie, 
and  all  the  rest  of  the  beastly,  selfish,  money-grab- 
bing crowd." 


CHAPTER  IX 

A  SUBTLE  SINNER'S  SUCCESS 

MR.  HUNTER  of  Messrs.  Martin  and  Cross 
sent  George  a  very  civil  letter,  acknowl- 
edging the  will  and  announcing  that  the 
papers  necessary  for  obtaining  probate  would  be  pre- 
pared in  due  course.     As  a  valuation  of  the  furni- 
ture would  be  required,  he  proposed  to  send  down  the 
man  usually  employed  by  his  firm  for  that  purpose, 
his  knowledge  being  extensive  and  his  fee  moderate. 

One  other  point  Mr.  Hunter  wished  to  refer  to. 
He  had  gathered,  from  an  interview  with  Mr.  Percy 
Taverner,  that  Miss  Yard's  mental  condition  left 
something  to  be  desired :  although  in  several  respects 
a  person  competent  to  do  business,  she  might  be  de- 
scribed as  susceptible  to  the  influence  of  a  superior 
intelligence,  and  could  therefore  be  prevailed  upon 
to  act  in  a  manner  contrary  to  her  interests :  she 
would  —  to  put  the  matter  plainly  —  sign  a  cheque 
if  ordered  by  some  other  person  to  do  so. 

Mr.  Hunter  understood  further  that  Miss  Yard 
positively  declined  to  leave  Highfield  House,  which 

was  now  Mr.  Drake's  property  by  virtue  of  the  phrase 

143  " 


U4>  A  DRAKE  BY  GEORGE ! 

"  all  that  I  die  possessed  of  "  contained  in  the  codicil 
to  the  will  of  Mrs.  Drake  deceased;  and  at  her  age 
it  might  perhaps  be  inadvisable  to  press  her.  The 
position  was  somewhat  a  delicate  one,  as  he  under- 
stood Mr.  Drake's  financial  position  was  not  possibly 
quite  so  strong  as  could  be  wished;  and  he  might  be 
desirous  of  selling  the  property.  Or,  on  the  other 
hand,  he  might  be  inclined  to  allow  Miss  Yard  the 
use  of  the  premises  upon  the  undertaking  that  she 
provided  him  with  board  and  lodging,  and  paid  a 
pepper-corn  rent. 

Both  Mr.  Percy  Taverner  and  himself,  in  their 
joint  capacity  as  trustees  of  the  Yard  estate,  agreed 
that  in  such  case  it  would  be  absolutely  necessary 
to  appoint  some  trustworthy  person  as  the  manager 
of  Miss  Yard's  affairs,  such  person  to  be  given  the 
charge  of  the  lady's  cheque-book,  and  to  give  an  ac- 
count of  all  moneys  spent.  Mr.  Taverner  had  recom- 
mended for  this  purpose  Miss  Nellie  Blisland,  whom 
he  believed  to  be  a  thoroughly  trustworthy  young  per- 
son and  one,  moreover,  not  only  firmly  attached  to 
Miss  Yard,  but  highly  favoured  by  the  lady  herself. 

"  More  of  Percy's  dirty  little  ways,"  was  George's 
comment.  "  He  thinks  I  shall  wheedle  money  out  of 
Aunt  Sophy  like  he  does  himself.  I'm  quite  satis- 
fied that  Nellie  should  be  appointed;  but  I  should 
like  to  be  told  for  certain  that  he  didn't  squeeze  her 
hand  when  he  said  good-bye.  I  saw  him  looking 


A  SUBTLE  SINNER'S  SUCCESS       145 

sideways  at  her  anyhow.  Now  for  the  trap  —  and 
I  don't  care  which  of  'em  tumbles  into  it." 

He  wrote  to  Mr.  Hunter,  quite  agreeing  with  all 
that  gentleman  had  said.  It  was  unfortunately  true 
that  his  financial  condition  was  somewhat  embar- 
rassed at  the  moment,  while  his  physical  state  did  not 
encourage  him  to  hope  for  any  considerable  increase 
of  income  likely  to  accrue  from  his  professional 
duties  of  civil  engineer.  The  position,  as  Mr. 
Hunter  had  admitted,  was  somewhat  delicate,  since 
Miss  Yard  would  be  living  in  his  house,  enjoying  the 
use  of  his  furniture ;  and  would  probably  continue  to 
do  so  until  her  death,  by  which  time  a  great  quantity 
of  domestic  utensils  would  have  been  destroyed, 
much  valuable  crockery  broken,  while  the  whole  of 
the  furniture  would  have  suffered  deterioration  owing 
to  wear  and  tear ;  furthermore  he  would  have  no  con- 
trol over  the  servants,  who  might  conceivably  in- 
dulge in  a  certain  amount  of  pilfering  —  indeed  a 
few  articles  had  already  unaccountably  disappeared. 

He  could  not,  of  course,  allow  Miss  Yard,  whom 
he  regarded  with  feelings  of  utmost  affection,  to  be 
disturbed,  or  even  to  be  troubled  by  any  suggestion 
that  her  tenancy  of  Windward  House  should  be 
brought  to  a  close;  but  it  was  perhaps  a  pity  Mr. 
Hunter  had  not  suggested  that  Miss  Yard  should 
purchase  the  furniture  —  with  the  exception  of  a  few 
articles  he  would  wish  to  retain  because  of  their 


146  A  DRAKE  BY  GEORGE ! 

sentimental  value  —  for  the  sum  which  might  be 
quoted  by  the  professional  valuer.  George  did  not 
press  the  point  in  the  least,  but  he  would  remind  Mr. 
Hunter,  under  such  an  arrangement,  Mr.  Percy 
Taverner  might  very  likely  benefit. 

The  appointment  of  Miss  Nellie  Blisland  as  cus- 
todian of  Miss  Yard's  bank-account  met  with  his  en- 
tire approval.  He  had  watched  this  young  lady  care- 
fully, and  could  assure  Mr.  Hunter  that  Miss  Yard's 
interests  would  be  perfectly  safe  in  her  hands. 

As  Mr.  Hunter  prowled  and  sniffed  through  these 
elegant  sentences,  he  discovered  nothing  of  a  sus- 
picious nature.  On  the  contrary,  Mr.  George  Drake 
appeared  to  him  a  very  obvious  gentleman  indeed. 
He  wrote  to  Percy,  requesting  another  interview,  and 
when  the  tomato-merchant  arrived  Mr.  Hunter  spread 
George's  letter  before  him  and  asked  him  what  he 
thought  about  it. 

"  Nothing  until  I've  heard  your  opinion,"  replied 
the  cautious  Percy. 

"  You  have  the  advantage  of  knowing  Mr.  Drake." 

"  It's  no  advantage,"  declared  Percy. 

"  What  sort  of  a  man  is  he?  "  asked  Mr.  Hunter. 

"  As  this  is  a  privileged  communication,  he's  the 
most  useless,  good-for-nothing  chap  in  the  country," 
replied  Percy ;  and  he  went  on  to  narrate  the  tragical 
history  of  his  cousin's  deception  and  indolence. 

"  Then  he  is,  in  your  opinion,  unscrupulous  ?  " 


*'  That's  right.  If  he  wants  Miss  Yard  to  buy  the 
furniture,  it's  because  he  hopes  to  benefit  by  it." 

"  Naturally,"  said  the  lawyer.  "  There's  nothing 
unscrupulous  in  that.  Under  the  will  of  Mrs.  Drake 
he  becomes  possessed  of  a  certain  amount  of  prop- 
erty ;  and,  being  a  poor  man,  he  is  anxious  to  convert 
this  property,  or  a  portion  of  it,  into  cash.  There 
is  apparently  no  opening  for  fraud  but,  should  one 
exist,  you  may  be  quite  sure  I  shall  discover  it  in  the 
course  of  negotiations." 

"What  do  you  advise?"  asked  Percy. 

"  First  of  all  I  should  like  to  know  whether  he  has 
written  to  you  ?  " 

*'  I  had  a  note  from  him,  offering  me  a  pair  of 
silver  candlesticks.  It  appears  he  found  a  scrap  of 
paper  left  by  my  aunt,  expressing  a  wish  that  I 
should  have  them,  as  they  were  given  her  as  a  wed- 
ding-present by  my  mother.  I  don't  want  them  just 
now,  as  I  live  in  lodgings,  so  I  wrote  back  and  said 
they  had  better  stay  in  the  house  until  Miss  Yard 
dies." 

"  It  would  have  been  the  easiest  thing  in  the  world 
to  have  destroyed  that  piece  of  paper.  Yet  Mr. 
Drake  has  communicated  its  contents  to  you,"  said 
Mr.  Hunter,  putting  on  his  eyeglasses  and  again 
searching  the  letter  for  any  possible  strat.'gem  or 
pitfall. 

"  I  don't  say  George  is  altogether  bad.     I  sup- 


148  A  DRAKE  BY  GEORGE! 

pose  he  can  respect  his  aunt's  memory  to  a  certain 
extent,"  replied  Percy. 

"  His  standpoint  appears  to  me  not  unreasonable," 
the  lawyer  continued.  "  The  furniture  belongs  to 
him,  and  his  argument,  firstly  that  he  will  be  unable 
to  realise  upon  it  during  Miss  Yard's  lifetime,  and 
secondly  that  it  may  deteriorate  to  some  extent  in 
value  before  her  death  takes  place,  is  quite  a  sound 
one.  It  is  possible  that  Miss  Yard  may  live  to  well 
over  ninety,  and  his  financial  position  may  become 
intolerable  before  then.  I  understand  the  furniture 
is  valuable  ?  " 

"  Most  of  it  is  rubbish ;  but  there  are  two  Chinese 
vases  which,  I  believe,  are  enormously  valuable. 
Captain  Drake  probably  looted  them  during  one  of 
his  eastern  expeditions.  I  have  described  them  to 
Crampy,  the  well-known  expert,  and  he  says  they 
may  be  worth  almost  anything." 

"  Mr.  Drake  is  careful  to  mention  there  are  a  few 
articles  he  would  wish  to  retain  because  of  their 
sentimental  value.  For  sentimental  read  pecuniary," 
said  Mr.  Hunter,  in  the  shocked  voice  usually 
adopted  by  a  lawyer  when  he  discovers  another  per- 
son trifling  with  the  truth.  "  But  the  goods  are 
his,  he  is  aware  of  their  value,  and  naturally  he 
wishes  to  retain  them.  These  vases  throw  a  new 
light  upon  the  position.  The  best  thing  he  can  do 
is  to  sell  them  at  once :  then,  if  they  are  as  valuable 


A  SUBTLE  SINNER'S  SUCCESS       149 

as  you  suppose,  he  can  retire  from  Windward  House, 
and  live  upon  the  interest  of  his  capital." 

"  Leaving  Miss  Yard  in  possession  of  the  house?  " 
"  Exactly  —  if  he  will  agree  to  that  course." 
"  Then  you  are  going  to  advise  Miss  Yard  to  buy 
the  furniture?  " 

"  I  think  not,  and  I  will  give  you  my  reasons.  In 
the  first  place  we  ought  not  to  perplex  Miss  Yard 
with  matters  of  business  she  cannot  understand.  In 
the  second  place  it  might  not  be  safe  for  her  to  be- 
come the  owner  of  the  furniture.  Miss  Yard,  I 
understand,  does  exactly  as  she  is  told ;  she  is  com- 
pletely under  the  control  of  servants ;  if  an  entire 
stranger  entered  the  house  and  introduced  himself 
as  a  relation,  she  might  give  him  anything  he  liked 
to  ask  for.  It  would  be  easy  for  Mr.  Drake,  if  he 
is'  unscrupulous  as  you  suggest,  to  visit  Miss  Yard 
and  induce  her  to  sign  a  will  leaving  him  the 
furniture  she  had  previously  purchased  from  him- 
self." 

"  On  the  other  hand,"  said  Percy,  "  we  shall  never 
get  George  out  of  Windward  House  while  the  furni- 
ture belongs  to  him.  He  is  too  much  afraid  of  the 
servants  stealing  things." 

"I  had  thought  of  that  difficulty,"  said  Mr. 
Hunter  in  his  most  omniscient  manner.  "  What  I 
am  going  to  recommend  is  that  you  should  make  Mr. 
Drake  an  offer  for  the  goods." 


150  A  DRAKE  BY  GEORGE! 

"  George  wouldn't  sell  to  me,"  said  Percy. 

"  It  cannot  matter  to  him  whether  you  or  Miss 
Yard  purchase  the  furniture.  If  you  do  so,  it  will 
be  upon  the  understanding  that  Mr.  Drake  leaves 
Miss  Yard  in  undisturbed  possession  of  the  premises 
at  a  rental  to  be  agreed  upon.  By  this  arrangement 
she  will  be  left  in  a  position  of  absolute  security. 
While,  if  you  decide  not  to  purchase,  Mr.  Drake  may 
sell  the  contents  of  one  room  after  another  accord- 
ing to  his  need  for  money." 

"  I'll  think  over  it,  and  let  you  know,"  said  Percy. 

"  During  the  course  of  the  next  few  days  we  shall 
be  receiving  the  figures  from  the  valuer,"  Mr.  Hunter 
continued.  "  I  shall  then  be  in  a  position  to  advise 
you  as  to  the  sum  you  should  offer  Mr.  Drake.  You 
agree  with  me,  I  think,  that  I  have  suggested  a  way 
out  of  the  difficulty?" 

"  I  am  always  ready  to  take  your  advice,"  replied 
Percy.  "  But  I  believe  George  hates  me  and,  if  I 
made  him  an  offer  for  the  furniture,  he  would  smell 
something  fishy." 

"  He  will  receive  a  complete  assurance  from  my 
firm  that  his  interests  are  being  adequately  pro- 
tected," said  the  lawyer,  with  a  dignity  that  seemed 
to  make  the  windows  rattle. 

A  few  days  afterwards  the  expert  sent  in  his  re- 
port, and  Mr.  Hunter  was  considerably  astonished  to 
read  that  the  contents  of  Windward  House,  excluding 


the  articles  belonging  to  Miss  Yard,  were  valued  for 
probate  at  the  sum  of  £220  5s.  3d.  He  sent  for  the 
valuer,  requesting  another  interview  with  Percy  at 
the  same  time ;  and,  when  they  came  together,  an  ex- 
planation of  these  figures  was  demanded ;  the  lawyer 
mentioning  that,  according  to  his  instructions,  the 
late  Captain  Drake  had  died  possessed  of  a  great 
number  of  valuable  antiques. 

"  Most  of  them  worthless.  At  all  events,  it's  no 
easy  matter  to  value  such  things  as  an  Egyptian 
mummy  and  a  stuffed  mermaid  for  purposes  of  pro- 
bate." 

"  How  about  the  Russian  Ikon  and  the  Indian 
musical-box?  "  asked  Percy. 

"  There  is  no  market  price  for  articles  of  that  de- 
scription. They  might  fetch  a  few  shillings,  or  a 
great  number  of  pounds.  It  would  depend  upon 
history  and  association,  or  upon  rivalry  between  col- 
lectors. I  value  the  Ikon  at  ten  shillings,  and  the 
musical-box  at  five  pounds.  It's  all  guess-work,  but 
I  doubt  whether  you  would  get  much  more.  As  for 
the  mummy,  I  simply  throw  it  in  with  the  oleo- 
graphs." 

"  Why  the  odd  threepence  ?  "  asked  Percy. 

The  valuer  coughed  and  said  nothing. 

"  Mr.  Taverner  and  I  are  particularly  interested 
In  a  pair  of  Chinese  vases,"  began  Mr.  Hunter  cau- 
tiously. 


152  A  DRAKE  BY  GEORGE! 

"  Which  were  kept  in  a  box  under  Mrs.  Drake's 
bed,"  added  the  more  reckless  Percy. 

"  Those  things  !  "  exclaimed  the  valuer  disgustedly. 
"  I  remember  them  well,  for  I  thought  Mr.  Drake 
was  getting  at  me  when  he  pulled  out  the  box  and 
unwrapped  those  vases.  There's  your  odd  three- 
pence, sir ! "  he  continued,  turning  towards  Percy. 
"  And  dear  at  the  price." 

"  You  have  made  a  mistake,  my  friend.  I'm  not 
an  expert,  but  I  would  give  five  hundred  pounds  for 
those  vases  without  having  another  look  at  them," 
said  Percy. 

"  Then  I  wish  they  were  mine ! "  cried  the  valuer. 

"  Perhaps  you  would  describe  these  vases  for  Mr. 
Taverner's  benefit,"  the  lawyer  suggested. 

"  They're  not  worth  describing,  sir.  They  are 
the  sort  of  things  exchanged  by  hawkers  for  a  rab- 
bit-skin. A  pair  of  green  vases  about  eighteen 
inches  high,  with  red  cabbages  meant  for  roses 
splashed  across  them." 

"  We  need  not  trouble  you  any  further,  I  think," 
said  Percy. 

"  It  was  the  most  difficult  job  I've  had  in  my  life. 
I  value  plate  and  furniture,  not  the  contents  of 
museums,"  the  man  protested. 

"  You  have  done  your  work  excellently,  as  usual ; 
and  you  have  also  given  us  the  information  we  re- 


A  SUBTLE  SINNER'S  SUCCESS       153 

quire,"  said  Mr.  Hunter,  as  the  valuer  took  his  hat 
and  his  leave. 

"  Of  course  you  see  what  has  happened,"  began 
Percy  at  once. 

"  Mr.  Drake  had  concealed  the  vases.  I  shall  write 
pretty  sharply  to  remind  him  he  must  not  play  these 
tricks  with  the  law,"  said  Mr.  Hunter. 

"  He's  a  bigger  fool  than  I  took  him  for,  if  he 
thought  he  could  deceive  the  valuer  —  not  to  men- 
tion you  and  me,"  said  Percy. 

"  Mr.  Drake  is  no  fool :  on  the  contrary,  he  seems 
a  clever  fellow.  He  did  not  suppose  he  could  deceive 
the  valuer,  nor  did  he  make  the  attempt.  He  simply 
produced  the  pair  of  worthless  vases  without  com- 
ment." 

"  Then  what  is  he  playing  at  ?  " 

"  In  the  first  place  he  tries  to  evade  the  death 
duties  as  far  as  possible;  and  these  fall  upon  him 
rather  heavily,  as  he  was  related  to  the  deceased  only 
by  marriage.  Mr.  Drake  would  naturally  prefer  to 
receive  one  thousand  pounds  for  the  vases  rather  than 
nine  hundred.  In  the  second  place,  he  is  anxious  to 
discover  how  much  we  know  about  these  vases.  It  is 
true  they  belong  to  him,  but  he  is  by  no  means  cer- 
tain of  their  value.  If  we  make  a  fuss  about  the 
vases  he  will  guess  they  are  genuine;  whereas,  if  we 
make  no  inquiry,  he  will  evade  the  duty  and  at  the 


154  A  DRAKE  BY  GEORGE ! 

same  time  be  satisfied  that  you  are  not  scheming  to 
get  hold  of  them." 

"  I  never  thought  of  such  a  thing !  "  exclaimed 
Percy. 

"  The  best  thing  we  can  do  is  to  send  down  an  ex- 
pert in  china.  I  shall  first  write  to  Mr.  Drake,  in- 
forming him  that  he  must  produce  the  vases." 

"  Send  Crampy !  You  needn't  write ;  I'll  go  and 
see  him,"  cried  Percy  eagerly. 

"  We  could  not  get  a  better  man  than  Mr.  Crampy ; 
but  I'm  afraid  his  fee  will  be  rather  high." 

"  He'll  do  it  for  a  guinea  if  I  ask  him.  Crampy 
is  a  great  friend  of  mine.  He  told  me  to  keep  an  eye 
upon  the  vases." 

Mr.  Hunter  being  perfectly  agreeable,  Percy 
snatched  his  hat  and  made  off,  muttering  as  he 
reached  the  street,  "  For  poor  old  George's  sake  I 
must  tell  him  not  to  value  them  too  high." 

George  in  the  meantime  had  nothing  much  to 
worry  about,  although  somewhat  disgusted  at  the 
low  figure  placed  upon  the  furniture.  He  and  Mr. 
Hunter  wrote  to  each  other  every  day  like  a  couple 
of  lovers ;  George  always  hoping  that  the  lawyer 
en j  oyed  a  continuance  of  perfect  health ;  while  Mr. 
Hunter  trusted  himself  to  anticipate  a  complete  cure 
from  the  backache  which  had  blighted  Mr.  Drake's 
existence  for  so  long.  Kezia  and  Bessie  were  mod- 
erately happy  while  taking  stock  of  the  goods  which 


A  SUBTLE  SINNER'S  SUCCESS       155 

appeared  to  belong  to  them  under  the  joint-tenancy 
created  by  the  scraps  of  paper;  but  there  was  ob- 
viously a  certain  amount  of  coldness  arising  between 
them  at  the  prospect  of  a  day  of  settlement.  George 
was  not  much  accounted  of  by  either,  although  the 
interference  of  the  valuer  was  bitterly  resented,  and 
George  had  much  difficulty  in  making  them  under- 
stand that,  whenever  a  person  of  quality  departed 
this  life,  the  Government  required  a  perfect  stranger 
from  one  of  the  State  Departments  to  set  a  price 
upon  the  furniture,  in  order  that  statistics  as  to  the 
national  wealth  might  be  obtained. 

Although  they  were  both  prepared  to  fight  for 
the  possession  of  the  Egyptian  mummy,  which  Rob- 
ert was  especially  anxious  to  see  set  up  against  the 
wall  of  his  parlour,  and  Kezia  had  long  regarded 
as  the  joy  and  inspiration  of  her  spiritual  existence, 
neither  of  them  showed  the  slightest  interest  in  the 
Chinese  vases  which  they  regarded  as  vulgar.  Vases 
to  Kezia  and  Bessie  were  —  vases ;  that  is  to  say, 
conspicuous  objects  set  upon  either  end  of  mantel- 
piece or  dresser,  to  be  replaced  by  others  when  broken. 
Any  little  village  shop,  or  travelling  Cheap-Jack, 
sold  artistic  vases,  such  as  those  Mr.  George  had 
lately  purchased  to  delight  his  eyes,  of  a  beautiful 
bright  green  painted  with  lovely  roses.  As  Kezia 
and  Bessie  were  quite  prepared  to  make  George  a 
free  gift  of  all  the  rubbish  in  the  house,  they  assured 


156  A  DRAKE  BY  GEORGE ! 

him,  in  the  kindest  possible  fashion,  that  the  vases 
with  hideous  dragons  on  them  were  his,  together 
with  the  tortoise  and  cats,  and  any  other  little  thing 
he  might  like  to  have  as  a  remembrance  of  his  aunt. 
George  did  not  thank  them  much,  but  then  he  had 
never  been  demonstrative. 

Letters  from  the  lawyer  and  expert  reached  George 
by  the  same  post;  the  one  informing  him  the  vases 
must  be  produced;  the  other  announcing  the  day 
upon  which  the  valuation  would  be  made.  When 
Mr.  Crampy  arrived  he  was  received  at  the  door  by 
Bessie,  who  spent  most  of  the  day  regarding  her  own 
home  from  the  windows  of  Windward  House  and,  as 
no  visitor  was  expected  by  any  one  except  George, 
who  as  usual  had  kept  his  own  counsel,  she  said, 
"  Not  to-day,  thankye,"  and  would  have  shut  him 
out;  but,  perceiving  that  the  gentleman  appeared 
somewhat  agitated,  she  added  with  less  severity, 
"  Have  ye  come  vor  anything?  " 

Mr.  Crampy  had  a  nervous  manner  and  spoke 
somewhat  indistinctly ;  but  Bessie  was  able  to  gather 
he  had  come  all  the  way  from  London  to  inspect  their 
china. 

"  Please  to  step  inside,"  she  said. 

Mr.  Crampy  did  so,  and  Bessie  led  him  like  a  lamb 
into  the  kitchen,  where  she  announced  to  Kezia, 
"  Gentleman  come  to  see  the  cloam." 

"  That's  one  lot  on  the  dresser,"  gasped  Kezia, 


A  SUBTLE  SINNER'S  SUCCESS       157 

wondering  how  many  more  inquisitors  would  arrive. 
"  The  best  dinner-service  is  in  the  pantry,"  she 
added. 

Mr.  Crampy  grew  more  nervous,  but  managed  to 
explain  he  had  come  to  see  a  certain  Mr.  Drake. 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,  sir,  I'm  sure,"  said  Bessie, 
"  but  I  fancied  you  said  something  about  china." 

"  Yes,  I  have  come  to  see  a  pair  of  vases,"  stam- 
mered Mr.  Crampy. 

"  Best  tell  Mr.  George  a  gentleman  wants  to  see 
'en,"  said  Kezia,  when  the  situation  threatened  to 
become  painful. 

A  minute  later  Mr.  Crampy  was  left  to  cool  in  the 
dining-room.  Presently  George  descended  the  stairs, 
carrying  a  large  white  candle  beneath  each  arm. 
He  apologised  for  the  stupidity  of  the  servants,  then 
locked  the  door,  and  placed  the  precious  bundles  on 
the  table,  with  the  announcement,  "  I  didn't  show 
these  things  to  the  other  man  for,  to  tell  you  the 
truth,  I  was  afraid  he  might  place  a  ridiculously 
false  value  upon  them.  I  expect  you  know  what's 
what  in  this  particular  line  ?  " 

"  I  am  supposed  to  have  a  very  fair  knowledge  of 
Chinese  porcelain.  A  great  deal  of  it  passes 
through  my  hands,"  said  Mr.  Crampy,  who  was  now 
perfectly  composed. 

George  removed  a  quantity  of  twine,  unwound 
some  yards  of  linen,  removed  clouds  of  brown  paper, 


158  A  DRAKE  BY  GEORGE! 

then  abstracted  from  a  bushel  of  fibre  the  vase 
heavily  swathed  in  cotton-wool;  and  this  he  handed 
to  Mr.  Crampy  with  the  utmost  reverence. 

The  expert  paused  a  moment  to  adjust  his  glasses ; 
then  he  drew  aside  the  wool  and  gazed  at  the  vase 
with  the  love  and  tenderness  of  a  father  regarding  his 
first-born  child.  His  lips  moved  to  mutter  repeat- 
edly the  single  word,  "  Undoubtedly !  " 

"  A  dream,  isn't  it  ?  "  remarked  George. 

"  Glazed  porcelain,  moulded  in  relief  with  dragons 
—  belonging  probably  to  an  early  period  of  the 
Tsing  dynasty,  about  the  end  of  the  seventeenth  cen- 
tury." 

"  And  they've  been  knocked  about  like  a  couple  of 
twopenny  tea-cups,"  added  George. 

"  Do  you  know,  Mr.  Drake,  how  they  came  into 
your  late  uncle's  possession?"  asked  the  expert, 
caressing  the  glazed  surface  with  tender  fingers. 

"  My  uncle  had  a  yarn  for  everything.  He  would 
have  said  they  were  a  present  from  the  Emperor  of 
China.  The  only  thing  I'm  concerned  about  is  the 
price  you  mean  to  put  upon  them." 

"  Porcelain  of  this  class  has  its  own  value,"  re- 
plied Mr.  Crampy.  "Were  these  vases  to  be  of- 
fered for  sale,  they  might  fetch  a  thousand  pounds 
or,  on  the  other  hand,  they  might  be  knocked  down 
at  five  hundred.  I  am  here  to  value  them  for  pur- 
poses of  probate,  and  that  means  the  lowest  possible 


A  SUBTLE  SINNER'S  SUCCESS       159 

value  I  can  put  upon  them.  Is  the  other  vase  in  a 
perfect  condition  ?  " 

"  Just  the  same.  Not  a  mark  upon  it.  Shall  I 
unwrap  it?  " 

"  Oh  no !  It  is  quite  sufficient  to  have  seen  the 
one.  I  think  I  may  value  them,  for  legal  require- 
ments, at  five  hundred  pounds ;  but,  Mr.  Drake,  if 
you  are  willing  to  accept  a  thousand  pounds,  I  will 
hand  you  a  cheque  for  that  amount  before  I  leave 
this  room." 

"  There's  a  big  difference  between  the  figures," 
said  George. 

"  I  don't  say  you  would  get  more  than  a  thousand 
pounds  for  these  vases.  But  I  am  in  the  trade,  I 
know  how  to  get  to  work  and  secure  a  profit  on  the 
transaction." 

"  It  sounds  a  very  liberal  offer,  but  I  won't  decide 
off-hand." 

"  There  is  no  hurry  whatever,"  said  the  expert 
hastily. 

"  If  nothing  better  comes  along  I'll  write  and  let 
you  know,"  said  George,  tingling  with  happiness  and 
excitement. 

Nor  did  his  triumph  end  here.  A  few  mornings 
later  came  a  letter  from  Mr.  Hunter,  and  George 
read  as  follows: 

"  With  reference  to  so  much  of  the  furniture  and 
other  articles  —  excluding  the  pair  of  Chinese  vases, 


160  A  DRAKE  BY  GEORGE! 

to  which  you  probably  attach  a  sentimental  value  — 
as  belonged  to  your  late  aunt,  I  have  had  an  inter- 
view with  Mr.  Percy  Taverner,  and  I  am  now  au- 
thorised on  his  behalf  to  make  you  an  offer  of  £200 
for  these  effects.  Although  this  sum  is  less  than 
the  amount  of  the  probate  valuation,  you  might  feel 
disposed  to  accept  the  offer,  having  regard  to  the 
fact  that  it  would  save  you  the  expense  of  remov- 
ing the  furniture  and  holding  a  sale  by  auction  and 
the  auctioneer's  commission  on  a  sale.  I  shall  be 
glad  to  hear  from  you  when  you  have  considered  Mr. 
Taverner's  proposal." 

"  I've  caught  'em !  "  cried  George  exultantly.  "  I 
baited  and  set  my  little  trap  and  I've  caught,  not 
only  slippery  Percy,  but  that  two-faced,  double- 
tongued,  pill-gilding,  thimble-rigging,  gammoning, 
diddling  Hunter ! " 


CHAPTER  X 

THE    FIRST    PERSON    SINGULAR    PARAMOUNT 


is  easier  than  catching  flies,"  was 
George's  comment,  when  the  cheque  for 
the  furniture  arrived,  together  with  a 
document  which  pretended  to  be  a  receipt,  but  was 
unable  to  disguise  the  fact  that  it  was  also  an  agree- 
ment; for  it  contained  a  clause,  by  which  George 
undertook  to  quit  Windward  House  within  three  cal- 
endar months,  and  to  accept  Miss  Yard  as  his  tenant 
for  life  at  a  yearly  rental  of  thirty  pounds. 

He  looked  forward  to  a  busy  day  without  flinch- 
ing. Some  forms  of  labour  were  fascinating,  and 
quashing  lawyers  was  one  of  them.  George  did  not 
write  to  Mr.  Hunter  returning  thanks,  but  walked 
into  the  market  town  and  opened  an  account  with 
the  post-office  savings-bank  by  paying  in  the  com- 
fortable cheque.  Returning  to  Highfield,  he  lured 
Nellie  into  the  garden,  and  informed  her  he  was  pil- 
ing up  money  in  a  reckless  fashion. 

"  Two  hundred  pounds  this  morning,"  he  said. 
"  Another  two  hundred  next  week.  And  so  it  will 
go  on." 

"  Where's  it  all  coming  from  ?  "  she  asked. 
161 


162  A  DRAKE  BY  GEORGE! 

"  Money  Aunt  left  me.  They  don't  know  what  a 
lot  she  did  leave.  It's  a  great  secret  and  I  wouldn't 
tell  any  one  but  you.  I'm  refusing  money  —  that 
gentleman  who  called  the  other  day  begged  me  to 
accept  a  thousand  pounds,  but  I  wouldn't  look  at  it. 
I  can  retire  any  day  now." 

"  From  what  ?  "  she  laughed. 

"  From  business.  Making  money  is  business,  and 
I'm  making  it  like  the  Mint." 

"  Did  you  really  get  two  hundred  pounds  this 
morning?  " 

"  Look  at  this,  if  you  can't  believe  me,"  George 
replied,  showing  her  the  bank-book.  "  It's  nothing 
—  just  a  flea-bite  —  what  the  French  call  a  game  of 
bagatelle.  Still  it  would  give  many  an  honest  soul  a 
start  in  life." 

"  You  had  better  lend  the  money  to  your  cousin," 
suggested  Nellie. 

"I'd  let  it  perish  first,"  cried  George.  "What- 
ever made  you  think  of  such  a  thing  ?  " 

"  Mr.  Taverner  wrote  to  Miss  Sophy  this  morn- 
ing —  she  shows  me  all  her  letters  now  —  and  asked 
her  to  lend  him  two  hundred  pounds,  as  he  had  sud- 
denly discovered  another  mortgage  he  had  forgotten 
to  pay  off." 

"  The  fellow's  a  ruffian ! "  exclaimed  George,  not 
without  some  admiration  for  Percy's  methods  of 
finance,  which  compared  favourably  with  his  own. 


FIRST  PERSON  SINGULAR  163 

"  He  had  learnt  the  profession  of  begging,  and 
isn't  ashamed  to  practise  it.  I  think  he  might  wait 
until  Miss  Sophy  is  dead." 

"  Percy  has  no  moral  sense,"  said  George,  with  the 
utmost  severity.  "  He  has  visited  here,  and  I  have 
entertained  him;  but  he  has  never  given  me  any- 
thing except  superciliousness,  and  on  one  occasion  a 
cigar  which  was  useless  except  as  a  germicide.  I 
have  never  yet  heard  your  opinion  of  him." 

"  He's  a  name  and  nothing  else,"  she  said. 

"  I  did  have  an  idea  he  wanted  to  be  something  to 
you." 

"  What  rubbish !  He  never  even  looked  at  me 
properly.  When  he  didn't  gaze  at  my  boots  he 
stared  over  my  head ;  and  he  spoke  to  me  like  a 
gramophone." 

"  You  didn't  exactly  like  him?  "  George  suggested. 

"  I  positively  dislike  him." 

"  You  never  looked  at  him  softly  with  your  nice 
blue  eyes  ?  " 

"  My  eyes  are  not  blue." 

"  They  seem  very  blue  sometimes,  but  I'm  not  good 
at  colours.  I  am  glad  you  don't  like  Percy.  It  has 
removed  a  great  weight  from  my  mind.  I  had  a 
dreadful  suspicion,  Nellie,  and  —  and  I  was  afraid  it 
might  interfere  with  my  sleep ;  but  I  won't  say  any- 
thing more  about  it  now.  Don't  you  think  we  had 
better  meet  this  evening,  when  it  is  getting  dusk," 


164  A  DRAKE  BY  GEORGE! 

George  rambled  on  heavily,  "  and  go  a  little  walk, 
and  talk  about  plans  ?  " 

"  I  have  no  plans,"  said  Nellie.  "  I  shall  just  go 
on  living  here  until  Miss  Yard  dies,  and  then  I  shall 
pack  up  my  belongings  —  including  the  round  table 
in  the  parlour  —  and  disappear  from  Highfield  for 
ever." 

"  Not  you,"  said  George.  "  I  have  a  quantity  of 
plans,  Nellie ;  a  lot  for  you  as  well  as  for  myself." 

"  Tell  me  all  about  them." 

"  This  is  not  the  time." 

"  Can't  you  speak  while  we  stand  here  in  the  sun- 
shine? " 

"  It  would  be  easier  if  we  were  walking  about  in 
the  dark." 

"  That  might  be  bad  for  me,"  she  reminded  him. 
"  When  a  couple  talk  in  the  dark,  other  couples  talk 
about  them.  I  will  listen  to  some  of  your  plans  — 
with  a  decided  preference  for  those  about  myself. 
You  shall  tell  me  four,"  she  said,  tapping  the  first 
finger  of  her  right  hand.  "  What  is  plan  number 
one?" 

"  About  Aunt  Sophy,"  replied  George  promptly. 

"  Unless  there's  a  sudden  change  in  temperature," 
murmured  Nellie,  "  I  am  to  be  frozen  out  again." 

"  You  come  last,"  said  tactless  George. 

"  Just  as  I  expected,  and  perhaps  a  little  more," 
she  answered. 


FIRST  PERSON  SINGULAR  165 

"  Aunt  Sophy  must  die,"  said  George  firmly. 
"  That  sad  event  should  happen  any  time  now.  The 
first  plan  is  to  get  rid  of  her." 

"  Let  it  be  done  decently,"  she  begged. 

"  I  don't  want  her  to  die,  for,  of  course,  one  is 
always  sorry  to  lose  old  relations.  Aunt  Maria's 
death  was  a  great  shock  to  me,"  George  explained. 
"  But  for  Aunt  Sophy  it  would  be  a  happy  release, 
especially  as  I  cannot  be  master  in  my  own  house 
while  she  lives.  She  ought  to  have  gone  before  Aunt 
Maria." 

"  I  suppose  she  forgot." 

"  Do  you  notice  any  signs  of  breaking  down  ?  " 

"  In  yourself  ?  "  asked  Nellie  gently. 

"  In  Aunt  Sophy.  I  —  I  don't  much  like  to  be 
made  fun  of,  Nellie." 

"  I  was  trying  to  cheer  you  up,  as  this  is  not  Miss 
Sophy's  funeral.  Don't  worry  about  the  dear  lady ; 
she  is  perfectly  well  and  thoroughly  happy ;  her 
health  has  been  much  better  since  we  came  to  High- 
field;  and  I  shall  be  quite  astonished  if  she  doesn't 
live  another  twenty  years.  She  is  a  great  admirer 
of  the  giant  tortoise  — " 

"  He's  over  five  hundred  years  old,"  cried  George 
in  anguish. 

"  That  makes  Miss  Yard  the  smallest  kind  of  in- 
fant." 

"  If  she  lives  another  two  years,  I  must  give  her 


166  A  DRAKE  BY  GEORGE ! 

notice.  I  cannot  have  her  upsetting  all  my  plans  — 
though  I  quite  agree  with  you  she  is  a  dear  old  lady." 

"  Plan  number  two !  "  cried  Nellie. 

•'  That  concerns  myself,"  said  George. 

"You  should  have  been  number  one,"  she  said 
reproachfully. 

"  I  had  to  put  Aunt  Sophy  first,  because  I  cannot 
arrange  my  own  future  while  she  occupies  the  house. 
I  don't  want  to  say  too  much  about  myself." 

"  I  know,"  said  Nellie  sympathetically.  "  That's 
your  way.  But  you  should  try  to  be  a  little  selfish 
sometimes." 

"  You  are  quite  right,  Nellie ;  we  must  think  of  our 
own  interests.  I  have  wasted  far  too  much  time 
bothering  about  Aunt  Sophy,  Kezia,  Bessie  — " 

"  And  me ! !  "  cried  Nellie.  "  Do  let  me  come  in 
somewhere." 

"  Not  with  them.  You  come  in  a  class  by  your- 
self." 

"  The  fourth,"  she  murmured. 

"  As  Aunt  Sophy  is  so  good  and  religious  we  can- 
not want  her  to  live  on,  knowing  how  much  happier 
she  will  be  in  the  next  world;  and  then  I  can  settle 
down  as  the  big  man  of  Highfield  —  quite  the  biggest 
man  in  the  place,  and  I  hope  the  most  respectable. 
Mr.  and  Mrs.  George  Drake,  of  Windward  House,  in 
the  parish  of  Highfield  and  county  of  Devon,  Es- 
quire, as  the  lawyers  say." 


FIRST  PERSON  SINGULAR  167 

"  How  unkind !  You  introduce  Mrs.  Drake,  and 
then  ignore  her.  You  married  her  at  one  end  of 
your  sentence  and  divorced  her,  for  no  fault  what- 
ever, at  the  other  end." 

"  Married  ladies  are  not  credited  with  separate  ex- 
istences," explained  George. 

"  They  generally  insist  upon  taking  one." 

"  By  lawyers,  I  mean.  They  are  not  distinct  en- 
tities like  spinsters  and  widows." 

"  I  see :  while  I  am  single  I  have  a  personality, 
when  I  marry  I  lose  it,  when  I  am  a  widow  I  regain  it. 
You  could  not  have  improved  upon  that  sentence." 

"  Why  not?  "  asked  George. 

"  In  its  repetition  of  the  most  important  letter  in 
the  alphabet.  Now  for  plan  number  three." 

"  But  I  have  said  nothing  about  myself  yet !  "  cried 
George. 

"  Don't  try.  You  are  finding  it  very  disagreeable, 
I  am  sure;  and  after  all  I  can  guess.  This  house 
ought  to  be  converted  into  a  mansion,  and  you  mean 
to  do  it.  This  village  sadly  needs  a  squire,  resident 
magistrate,  pillar  of  uprightness ;  and  you  fully  in- 
tend to  supply  that  want." 

George  nodded,  and  hoped  she  would  go  on  talking 
like  that,  blinking  after  the  fashion  of  a  tom-cat  who 
has  just  enjoyed  a  bowl  of  cream. 

"  I  have  all  sorts  of  plans  for  my  future,  but  they 
are  not  properly  arranged  yet.  Aunt  Sophy  blocks 


168  A  DRAKE  BY  GEORGE ! 

them  all.  I  am  not  ambitious,"  George  blundered  on, 
"  but  I  do  mean  to  have  a  comfortable  home,  lux- 
urious arm-chairs,  piles  of  cushions,  deep  carpets, 
felt  slippers,  and  good  cigars.  I  don't  care  how  sim- 
ple my  food  is,  so  long  as  I  have  good  tobacco,  and 
the  very  finest  tea  obtainable.  I  should  like  to  turn 
the  parlour  into  a  tea-house,  with  a  divan  at  one  end 
where  I  could  lie  and  smoke  —  sometimes." 

"  A  dream  of  Turkish  delight ! "  laughed  Nellie. 
"  What  is  the  third  plan?  " 

"  Concerning  finance,  and  there  I  can't  be  beaten," 
replied  George  promptly. 

"  I  thought  you  were  rolling  in  money." 

"  It  is  coming  in  nicely  now,"  George  admitted, 
"  but  after  a  time  the  flow  will  cease ;  while  I  shall 
still  be  spending.  The  problem  before  me  is  how  to 
invest  my  capital  so  that  I  shall  be  certain  of  a  com- 
fortable income.  Government  securities  are  treach- 
erous things,  and  I  have  very  little  confidence  in 
railways.  The  secret  of  wealth  is  to  invest  your 
cash  in  those  things  which  everybody  must  have. 
Now  every  man  must  buy  tobacco  and  drink  beer; 
they  are  necessities  of  life.  And  every  woman  must 
carry  an  umbrella.  What  is  a  woman's  principal 
necessity  next  to  an  umbrella  ?  " 

"  No  respectable  girl  would  even  think  of  anything 
except  umbrellas,"  replied  Nellie.  "  But  most  girls 
are  not  respectable,  I'm  afraid,  and,  though  it  is  a 


FIRST  PERSON  SINGULAR  169 

horrible  confession  to  make,  they  cannot  be  happy 
unless  they  are  constantly  supplied  with  chocolates." 

"  Is  that  really  the  truth  ?  "  asked  George,  with 
much  interest. 

"  It  is,  indeed.  My  kind  of  girl  must  have  choco- 
lates, just  as  your  kind  of  man  must  drink  beer." 

"  Now  that  you  mention  it,  I  seem  to  remember 
there  are  an  extraordinarily  lot  of  sweet-shops  in 
every  town." 

"  And  I  should  visit  them  all,  just  as  naturally  as 
you  would  go  into  the  public-houses." 

"  That's  a  very  valuable  suggestion,"  said  George. 
"  I  shall  invest  the  whole  of  my  capital  in  beer,  to- 
bacco, umbrellas,  and  chocolates.  You  see,  Nellie, 
that  will  practically  cover  the  prime  necessities  of 
either  sex.  A  man  goes  to  work  with  a  pipe  in  his 
mouth,  and  he  walks  straight  into  a  public-house. 
A  woman  comes  out  with  an  umbrella,  and  the  first 
thing  she  does  is  to  buy  chocolates." 

"  There  are  sure  to  be  exceptions,"  said  Nellie. 
"  A  bishop,  for  instance,  might  not  go  to  his  cathe- 
dral with  a  pipe  in  his  mouth,  while  a  Cabinet  Min- 
ister would  probably  walk  straight  past  several  pub- 
lic-houses." 

"  But  they  all  smoke  and  drink  at  home." 

"  I  don't  fancy  somehow  that  bishops  drink  beer." 

"  Bottled  beer,"  said  George  eagerly. 

"  Surely  some  are  teetotallers !  " 


170  A  DRAKE  BY  GEORGE ! 

"  Then  they  drink  cocoa,  and  that's  chocolate 
melted  down.  On  the  other  hand,  plenty  of  ladies 
drink  beer.  You  can  see  them  carrying  jugs  — " 

"  Not  ladies !  "  cried  Nellie. 

"  Well,  charwomen  —  they  are  ladies  from  a  busi- 
ness point  of  view.  I  can  see  myself  making  tons  of 
money,"  said  George  delightedly.  "  If  only  Aunt 
Sophy  — " 

"  Do  please  let  the  poor  old  lady  live  on  and  enjoy 
herself.  You  wouldn't  like  to  be  hunted  out  of  the 
world  to  suit  anybody's  plans.  And  now,"  said  Nel- 
lie, "  we  reach  the  fourth  subject,  which  I  flatter  my- 
self has  some  connection  with  a  certain  person  who 
is  quite  used  to  being  regarded  as  an  afterthought." 

"  Three  persons  —  Kezia,  Bessie,  Robert.  They 
must  go,  all  of  them." 

"  Really  this  is  the  last  straw !  "  cried  Nellie.  "  I 
was  almost  certain  I  should  be  at  least  honourably 
mentioned." 

"  But  I  am  talking  to  you,  not  about  you.  I'm 
telling  you  my  secrets  —  and  I  wouldn't  do  that  to 
any  one  but  you.  Nellie,  you  don't  think  I  am  play- 
ing with  your  affections  ?  " 

"  I'll  not  listen  any  longer.  I  couldn't  expect  to 
come  first,  but  I  did  hope  to  be  placed  last." 

"  If  you  would  walk  after  dark  — " 

"  I'm  not  a  ghost ;  besides,  I  will  not  be  ashamed  to 
stand  in  the  light." 


FIRST  PERSON  SINGULAR  171 

"  Then  we  might  talk  about  something  that  means 
love,"  said  George,  who,  being  wound  up  for  that 
sentence,  was  bound  to  finish  it. 

"  Oh,  George ! "  exclaimed  one  of  the  parrots. 

"  I  wonder  what  it  would  be  like,"  said  Nellie, 
when  she  had  done  laughing. 

"  You  teach  those  birds  to  say  things,"  he  mut- 
tered crossly. 

"  They  are  so  intelligent.  That  one  can  say, 
•Nellie's  the  belle  of  the  ball.'  Even  that  sort  of 
compliment  is  better  than  none." 

"  I  am  thinking,  Nellie,  that  you  like  chocolates 
I  had  better  get  you  some,"  George  continued,  be- 
lieving it  might  be  threepence  well  invested. 

"  That  wouldn't  be  a  bad  idea." 

"  And  you  would  take  them  as  a  compliment  from 
me?" 

"  I'll  take  all  I  can  get,"  she  promised. 

"  You  know,  Nellie,  I'm  older  than  you,  but  I'm 
reliable.  I'm  not  much  good  at  silly  talk,  but  I  do 
mean  what  I  say.  I  can  quite  understand  some  men 
would  say  very  silly  things  to  you,  but  I  can't." 

"  People  will  talk  rubbish  when  they  are  in  love," 
she  admitted. 

"  It's  a  very  serious  matter.  I  wouldn't  joke 
about  such  a  thing,"  said  George. 

"  Of  course,  when  a  man  tells  his  own  particular 
girl  she  is  a  star,  a  flower,  an  angel,  and  a  goddess, 


172  A  DRAKE  BY  GEORGE! 

he  is  only  joking;  but  most  girls  are  so  sweet-tem- 
pered they  can  take  a  joke." 

"  I  never  made  a  joke,"  cried  George. 

"  And  I  hope  you  will  never  try." 

"  But  I'm  full  of  affection." 

"  I  have  never  seen  any  one  quite  so  seriously  in 
love  as  you  are." 

"  I'm  so  glad  you  can  see  it.  You  have  quite 
sensible  eyes,  Nellie,  and  I  think  you  may  improve 
a  good  deal  as  you  get  older.  I  am  easy-going,  and 
you  are  pleasant,  so  we  ought  to  get  along  very 
well." 

"  You  are  so  much  in  love,"  cried  Nellie,  "  that 
you  can't  help  saying  silly  things.  You  regard  the 
person  that  you  love  as  the  most  angelic  creature 
possible;  and  angels  are  always  masculine  in  spite 
of  lovers'  talk." 

"  I  take  people  as  I  find  them ;  I  never  look  for 
their  faults,"  said  the  virtuous  George. 

"  Try !  If  you  could  discover  a  few  faults  in  the 
person  that  you  love,  it  might  help  you  to  stop 
saying,  '  I  am,'  and  to  begin  learning,  '  Thou 
art,' "  replied  Nellie,  as  she  ran  off  towards  the 
house. 

"  There,  George !  "  cried  one  of  the  parrots ;  while 
the  giant  tortoise  thoughtfully  advanced  one  mil- 
limetre. 

"  She  is  not  nearly  serious  enough,"  said  George, 


FIRST  PERSON  SINGULAR  173 

"  and  I'm  afraid  her  words  sometimes  have  a  double 
meaning;  but  she  is  useful  and  quite  ornamental. 
She  pours  out  tea  beautifully,  and  I  do  admire  the 
way  she  puts  on  Aunt  Sophy's  slippers." 

The  next  duty  —  a  more  simple  one  —  was  to 
win  the  sympathy  of  Miss  Yard.  Every  evening, 
when  fine  enough,  the  lady  walked  once  round  the 
garden  and,  upon  returning  to  the  house,  was  packed 
into  her  chair  till  supper-time;  although  she  refused 
to  remain  quiescent,  and  would  wander  about  the 
room  hiding  her  valuables  in  secret  corners.  On 
this  particular  evening  she  fell  asleep  and,  when 
George  entered  the  parlour,  she  did  not  recognise 
him  until  he  had  introduced  himself. 

"  I  shall  soon  be  getting  quite  stupid,"  she  said. 
"  I  was  just  going  to  ask  you  to  sit  down  and  wait 
for  yourself.  But  I'm  thankful  to  say  my  memory 
is  just  as  good  as  ever." 

"  Then  you  remember  Percy  ?  "  began  George, 
seating  himself  close  beside  her. 

"  Oh  dear  yes !  I  often  hear  from  Percy.  He 
tells  me  he  has  a  fine  crop  of  potatoes." 

"  Tomatoes." 

"  He  dug  up  two  hundred  pounds'  worth  last  week. 
I  had  a  letter  from  him  this  morning  telling  me 
that." 

"  And  you  remember  Mr.  Hunter  ?  "  George  went 
on. 


174  A  DRAKE  BY  GEORGE ! 

"  I've  just  sent  him  a  subscription  for  his  new 
church,"  replied  Miss  Yard. 

"  Ah,  that's  somebody  else.  I  mean  Mr.  Hunter, 
your  family  solicitor." 

"  Oh,  yes,  I  remember  him  quite  well.  He  came 
to  see  me  when  I  lived  somewhere  else.  It  must  have 
been  a  long  time  ago,  because  he's  been  dead  for 
years." 

He'ji  back  again  at  his  office  now,  and  has  writ- 
n  to  BM.     He  tells  me  I  am  to  leave  you,"  said 
George  solemnly. 

Miss  Yard  gasped  and  looked  frightened  at  this 
message  from  the  grave.  She  seized  George's  arm 
and  ordered  him  to  say  it  all  over  again,  more  slowly. 

"  Mr.  Hunter  is  afraid  that,  if  I  live  here,  I  may 
rob  you;  so  he  says  I  must  go  out  into  the  world 
and  make  my  own  living.  That's  impossible  at  my 
time  of  life,"  said  George  warmly. 

"  You  wouldn't  do  such  a  thing,"  cried  Miss  Yard, 
almost  in  tears.  "  You  are  so  kind  to  me ;  you  find 
my  money  when  the  others  hide  it  away.  If  I  break 
anything  you  are  always  the  first  to  run  for  the 
doctor  —  I  mean  when  I  bump  my  head.  I  shall 
write  to  Mr.  Hunter  and  tell  him  his  new  church 
will  never  prosper  if  he  does  this  sort  of  thing." 

"  It  is  hard  to  be  ordered  out  of  my  own  house," 
said  George. 

"  Whatever  can  the  man  be  thinking  of !     I  really 


FIRST  PERSON  SINGULAR  175 

cannot    understand   a   clergyman   being   so   wicked. 
Perhaps  I  ought  to  write  to  the  bishop." 

"  He's  a  lawyer,  Aunt,"  George  shouted. 

"  Now  why  didn't  you  tell  me  that  before?  "  said 
Miss  Yard  crossly.  "  Of  course,  lawyers  will  do 
anything.  The  people  who  did  my  father's  business 
were  the  only  honest  lawyers  I  ever  came  across. 
This  house  belongs  to  me,  and  you  shall  stay  here 
as  long  as  you  like.  If  you'll  find  my  cheque-book 
I  will  write  to  this  man  at  once  —  I  mean,  if  you 
will  bring  my  pen,  you  shall  have  a  little  present, 
for  you  are  always  so  thoughtful.  I  am  so  sorry 
your  poor  dear  mother  didn't  leave  you  much." 

George  had  not  time  to  correct  her  error ;  be- 
sides, it  was  useless.  He  brought  her  writing-ma- 
terials after  a  vain  search  for  the  cheque-book,  for 
Nellie  had  taken  possession  of  that,  and  said,  "  I 
don't  want  to  confuse  you,  Aunt,  but  I  suppose 
you  will  be  leaving  Nellie  something?  " 

"  Everything  I  have,"  replied  Miss  Yard  earnestly. 
"  I  am  leaving  her  the  house,  and  all  the  furniture, 
my  clothes  and  jewels,  and  as  much  money  as  I  can 
save.  I  could  not  rest  if  I  thought  dear  Nellie 
would  be  left  unprovided  for.  You  will  look  after 
Nellie,  won't  you?  I  should  be  so  pleased  if  you 
would  adopt  her  as  your  daughter." 
.  "  I'm  not  quite  old  enough,"  George  stammered. 

"  Nonsense,   you   look   quite   elderly,"   said   Miss 


176  A  DRAKE  BY  GEORGE! 

Yard  encouragingly.  "  And  Nellie  is  such  a 
child." 

"  If  I  had  been  younger  I  might  have  thought  about 
marrying  her,"  said  George  awkwardly. 

"  Now  that  would  have  been  a  nice  idea !  What 
a  pity  it  is  you  are  not  forty  years  younger." 

"  You  are  thinking  of  some  one  else,"  cried  George 
despairingly. 

"  Oh,  I'm  sure  you  are  sixty.  Your  mother  mar- 
ried when  I  was  quite  a  girl.  I  do  remember  that, 
for  I  got  so  excited  at  the  wedding  that,  when  the 
clergyman  asked  her  if  she  wanted  the  man,  I  thought 
he  was  speaking  to  me,  and  I  said,  *  Yes,  please,'  and 
poor  Louisa  gave  me  such  a  look,  and  I  went  into 
hysterics.  Girls  can't  go  into  hysterics  in  these 
days  like  we  used  to  do.  It's  funny  how  well  I  re- 
member all  these  things  that  happened  in  our  young 
days,  but  then  for  an  old  woman  my  memory  is  won- 
derful. What  were  we  talking  about  before  you 
mentioned  your  mother's  wedding?  " 

"  About  Mr.  Hunter,  the  lawyer  who  has  ordered 
me  to  leave  you,"  replied  George,  deciding  to  say  no 
more  of  his  matrimonial  intentions. 

"  I  never  heard  of  such  impertinence  in  my  life. 
He  will  be  telling  me  next  I  don't  own  the  place," 
cried  Miss  Yard,  stabbing  with  her  pen  in  the  di- 
rection of  the  ink-pot.  "  What  am  I  to  say  to  the 
wretch  ?  " 


FIRST  PERSON  SINGULAR  177 

"  Remind  him  I  am  your  nephew,  and  I  have  every 
right  to  enjoy  your  hospitality.  Tell  him  I  am  in- 
dispensable to  you.  Then  you  might  add  something 
about  the  wickedness  of  depriving  an  orphan  of  his 
home,  and  conclude  by  mentioning  that  you  will 
never  consent  to  my  leaving  you." 

"  I'll  tell  him,  if  he  persecutes  you  any  more,  I 
will  put  the  matter  into  the  hands  of  my  own  solici- 
tor," Miss  Yard  declared,  scribbing  away  briskly, 
for  her  greatest  delight,  next  to  chattering,  was  let- 
ter-writing. 

"  I  wouldn't  do  that,"  said  George  piously.  "  It 
sounds  too  much  like  a  threat,  and  after  all  we  must 
try  to  forgive  our  enemies." 

"  Thank  you  for  reminding  me.  That's  a  beauti- 
ful idea  of  yours.  I  wish  I  was  a  good  and  clever 
old  woman  like  you  are." 

George  was  stooping  over  her  at  the  moment,  and 
this  compliment  made  him  groan.  "  It's  my  poor 
back,"  he  explained. 

"  Oh  dear ! "  exclaimed  the  innocent  old  lady. 
"  When  you  have  gone  to  bed,  I  shall  send  Nellie  to 
wrap  you  up  in  red  flannel.  We  old  people  cannot 
be  too  careful." 

Miss  Yard  wrote  letters  to  all  manner  of  persons, 
living,  dead,  and  imaginary;  but  very  few  found 
their  way  to  the  post-office.  George  took  posses- 
sion of  the  letter  to  Mr.  Hunter  and  despatched  it 


178  A  DRAKE  BY  GEORGE! 

himself ;  and,  knowing  exactly  when  the  answer  would 
be  received,  he  took  the  precaution  of  going  out  to 
meet  the  postman.  By  this  time  he  was  prepared 
for  action,  as  the  cheque  for  two  hundred  pounds 
had  been  cleared,  and  the  amount  was  deposited  safely 
to  his  account. 

There  were  two  letters,  and  one  was  addressed  to 
himself.  Miss  Yard's  was  merely  a  note,  acknowl- 
edging the  receipt  of  her  communication  and  men- 
tioning that  Mr.  Taverner  would  shortly  be  writing 
with  a  view  to  clearing  away  the  misunderstanding 
which  had  arisen  since  the  death  of  Mrs.  Drake. 
George  opened  a  phial  of  malice  and  poured  out  its 
contents  upon  the  name  of  Percy.  Then  he  ex- 
amined his  own  letter,  which  was  bulky  and  of  a 
strongly  acid  tendency. 

Mr.  Hunter  was  astonished  and  pained  to  think 
that  Mr.  Drake  should  have  taken  advantage  of  the 
age  and  infirmities  of  Miss  Yard  to  such  an  extent 
as  to  have  made  her  the  instrument  of  his  plans ; 
as  it  was  perfectly  evident  Mr.  Drake  had  dictated, 
or  at  least  had  inspired,  the  letter  which  had  been 
addressed  to  his  firm  by  Miss  Yard.  Mr.  Hunter 
earnestly  desired  to  avoid  anything  of  an  unpleas- 
ant nature,  and  he  hoped  therefore  Mr.  Drake  would 
not  venture  to  repeat  an  experiment  which  suggested 
a  state  of  ethics  with  which  he  had  not  previously 
been  acquainted;  and  would  adhere  to  his  undertak- 


FIRST  PERSON  SINGULAR  179 

ing,  given  as  a  condition  to  Mr.  Taverner's  purchase 
of  the  furniture,  namely,  to  leave  Miss  Yard  in  un- 
disturbed possession  of  the  premises  bequeathed  to 
Mr.  Drake  by  his  late  aunt,  and  better  known  and 
described  as  Windward  House.  Mr.  Hunter  had 
also  just  been  informed,  to  his  soul's  amusement,  that 
Mr.  Drake  had  not  yet  subscribed  to  this  form  of 
agreement,  nor  had  he  acknowledged  the  receipt  of 
a  cheque  for  two  hundred  pounds  forwarded  him 
some  days  previously.  Mr.  Hunter  continued  to  be 
sorry  to  the  end  of  his  letter,  which  was  a  mem- 
orable piece  of  philosophic  morality,  suggesting 
that  the  lawyer's  office  had  been  quite  recently  taken 
over  by  some  institution  for  reforming  wicked 
people. 

George  expressed  a  hope  that  Mr.  Hunter  some 
day  might  be  sorry  for  himself.  He  had  under- 
rated the  powers  of  the  lawyer,  who  had  now  proved 
himself  to  possess  the  ordinary  malevolent,  orphan- 
baiting,  legal  soul.  However,  George  had  no  in- 
tention of  surrendering  without  a  struggle.  He  took 
his  pen  and  obliterated  the  highly  offensive  clause 
which  referred  to  his  expulsion  from  Windward 
House.  He  then  added  his  signature  and  composed 
an  epistle  complaining  bitterly  of  the  oriental  methods 
of  oppression  which  were  being  brought  to  bear  upon 
him.  He  mentioned  that  he  was  an  invalid  English- 
man residing  in  Devonshire ;  and  laid  particular  stress 


180  A  DRAKE  BY  GEORGE ! 

upon  the  fact  he  never  had  been  an  Armenian  living 
somewhere  in  the  Turkish  Empire.  He  especially 
desired  to  draw  Mr.  Hunter's  attention  to  the  phe- 
nomenon that  the  present  age  was  democratic,  and 
British  workmen  —  with  whom  he  did  not  disdain 
to  be  associated  —  were  becoming  impatient  of  high- 
handed methods.  He  enclosed  the  receipt  and  re- 
gretted the  delay,  which  had  been  unavoidable  owing 
to  the  insertion  of  the  clause  —  now  deleted,  as  Mr. 
Hunter  would  observe  —  which  seemed  to  strike  far 
too  harshly  against  his  personal  liberty.  He  had 
given  this  clause  his  serious  attention  for  some  days, 
but  had  arrived  at  the  conclusion,  regretfully,  that 
it  involved  a  principle  he  was  quite  unable  to  ac- 
cept. Messrs.  Hunter  and  Taverner,  in  their  joint 
capacity  as  trustees  of  the  Yard  estate,  had  ap- 
parently conspired- — he  did  not  use  the  word  in  an 
objectionable  sense,  although  in  his  opinion  it  had 
but  one  meaning  —  to  secure  his  eviction  from  prem- 
ises to  which  he  was  legally  entitled.  They  had 
offered  him  a  wholly  inadequate  sum  of  money  for 
the  furniture,  and  this  offer  he  had  accepted  with 
the  sole  idea  of  rendering  Miss  Yard  a  kindness ; 
but  now,  it  appeared,  the  money  had  been  intended 
as  a  bribe  to  induce  him  to  quit  his  home.  Was  this 
altogether  legal?  Was  it  honest?  Could  it  be  re- 
spectable? He  felt  compelled  to  remind  Mr.  Hun- 
ter, again  regretfully,  that  a  bribe  was  something 


FIRST  PERSON  SINGULAR  181 

given  to  corrupt  the  conduct  of  poor  but  decent 
men. 

Then  he  went  to  Miss  Yard  and  told  her  the  law- 
yer was  still  tormenting  him,  and  he  was  very  much 
afraid  it  might  soon  be  necessary  to  go  away  and 
find  some  hiding-place. 

"  Has  the  man  written  to  me?  "  asked  Miss  Yard, 
when  the  whole  matter  had  been  recalled  to  her 
memory. 

"  Don't  you  remember?  He  said  you  were  a  silly 
old  woman,  and  you  had  no  business  to  interfere." 

"  Where  is  the  letter  ?  Find  it  for  me,  George, 
and  I'll  do  something,"  she  cried  indignantly. 

"  You  were  so  angry  that  you  threw  it  on  the 
fire.  Don't  worry,  Aunt;  I  shall  know  how  to  de- 
fend myself.  The  man  tried  to  bribe  me  to  leave 
you,  and  now  he's  threatening  to  send  me  to  prison 
by  means  of  false  evidence." 

"  I  wish  you  would  let  me  write  to  my  own  man, 
what's  his  name?  " 

"  That  would  lead  to  expense,  and  you  must  not 
spend  money  on  me.  If  I  don't  go  away  I'm  afraid 
the  man  may  come  to  Highfield  with  a  gang  of  ruf- 
fians, and  break  into  the  house  —  and  I  won't  have 
you  worried." 

"  I'll  give  you  some  money,"  said  the  generous 
lady.  "Where's  my  cheque-book?  Tell  Nellie  to 
find  my  cheque-book." 


182  A  DRAKE  BY  GEORGE ! 

"  Thank  you,  Aunt.  A  little  money  will  be  very 
useful.  This  man  is  just  a  blackmailer,  and  if  I 
hide  for  a  few  weeks  he  will  forget  all  about  me. 
Then  you  can  write  and  invite  me  to  come  back,"  said 
George  tenderly. 

"  I'll  write  this  moment,"  cried  Miss  Yard. 

"  But  I  haven't  gone  yet.  You  are  mistress  here 
and,  if  you  like  to  invite  me,  of  course,  I  can  come 
and  stay  as  long  as  you  care  to  have  me." 

"  And  if  that  horrid  man  tries  to  turn  you  out 
again,  I  shall  let  Percy  know  about  it,  and  I  shall 
get  advice  from  Hunter  —  I  wonder  how  I  came 
to  remember  his  name.  Do  write  to  Hunter  and 
tell  him  all  about  it,"  Miss  Yard  pleaded. 

"  To  please  you,  I  will,"  George  promised. 

That  evening  he  received  a  letter  in  strange  hand- 
writing, and  bearing  the  illegible  postmark  which 
signified  that  it  came  from  London.  George  opened 
it  and,  perceiving  the  signature  of  Mr.  Crampy, 
expert  in  ancient  porcelain,  read  the  contents  with 
interest : 

"  Since  visiting  you  I  have  spoken  with  several 
collectors  about  your  pair  of  vases,  which,  I  have 
no  doubt  whatever,  are  excellent  specimens  dating 
from  the  Tsing  dynasty,  although  I  admit  forgeries 
of  this  period  are  exceedingly  difficult  to  detect.  My 
object  in  writing  is  to  warn  you  against  being  im- 
posed upon,  and  to  remind  you  of  your  promise  to 


FIRST  PERSON  SINGULAR  183 

give  me  first  refusal  up  to  a  thousand  pounds,  which 
sum  I  am  still  perfectly  willing  to  risk. 

"  It  is  highly  probable  some  wealthy  collectors  may 
call  upon  you  as,  when  the  existence  of  such  vases 
as  you  possess  becomes  known,  there  is  invariably  a 
hue  and  cry  after  them.  I  enclose,  on  a  separate 
sheet  of  paper,  a  list  of  names ;  these  are  all  gentle- 
men whom  you  can  trust  absolutely.  The  two 
against  whose  names  I  have  pencilled  the  letters, 
U.  S.  A.  are,  I  know,  very  keen  to  get  your  vases. 
If  you  should  do  business  with  any  of  the  gentle- 
men on  my  list  I  get  a  commission.  I  don't  sup- 
pose you  will  let  yourself  be  humbugged,  but  I  beg 
you  not  to  make  any  offer  in  writing  unless  you  in- 
tend to  stick  to  it,  as  any  of  these  collectors  would 
convert  your  scrap  of  writing  into  a  stamped  legal 
document  at  once,  and  then  sue  you  for  breach  of 
contract  if  you  tried  to  get  out  of  it. 

"  So  long  as  you  refuse  to  part  with  the  vases 
for  less  than  a  thousand,  you'll  be  all  right." 


CHAPTER  XI 

SOME    LEADING   INCIDENTS 

1  *  "TP  DO  hope  there's  nothing  wrong  with  Mr. 
;.'  Percy,  vor  Miss  Sophy  ha'  got  a  letter  from 
M  him,  and  she's  crying  something  shocking," 
remarked  Kezia,  as  she  handed  George  a  communi- 
cation informing  him  that,  not  only  Mr.  Hunter,  but 
the  entire  firm  of  Martin  and  Cross,  had  been  out- 
raged by  the  unspeakable  conduct  of  Mr.  Drake,  who 
had  dishonoured  the  title  of  gentleman  by  breaking 
his  plighted  word,  and  had  stained  his  own  name  for 
ever  by  repudiating  a  contract.  During  the  whole 
course  of  his  professional  career  Mr.  Hunter  was 
thankful  to  say  he  never  before  received  a  letter  sug- 
gesting that  he  —  a  solicitor  —  was  capable  of  con- 
spiring with  another  to  deprive  a  third  party  of  his 
lawful  inheritance.  He  banished  the  sinister  reflec- 
tion, and  enclosed  a  fresh  form  of  receipt,  containing 
the  clause  which  Mr.  Drake  unaccountably  regarded 
as  oppressive,  after  having  expressed  his  entire  ap- 
proval of  the  conditions  contained  therein,  and  he 
pressed  for  its  execution  at  once  or,  failing  that,  the 

immediate   return   of  the   cheque   for   two   hundred 

184 


SOME  LEADING  INCIDENTS          185 

pounds.  Mr.  Taverner  had  specifically  mentioned 
he  would  not  purchase  the  furniture  unless  Mr.  Drake 
gave  an  undertaking  in  writing  to  withdraw  from 
Windward  House;  and  now  that  Mr.  Hunter  had 
become  more  intimately  acquainted  with  Mr.  Drake's 
character,  he  was  bound  to  confess  that  Mr.  Ta- 
verner had  displayed  remarkably  shrewd  judgment. 

"  I  trapped  him,  but  he  doesn't  know  it ;  I  have 
trod  upon  his  corn,  and  he  doesn't  like  it;  now  I'll 
make  a  fool  of  him  completely,"  George  muttered. 

Then  Miss  Yard  came  trembling  and  half-tumbling 
downstairs,  supported  by  Nellie,  and  weeping  bit- 
terly in  quite  a  joyful  fashion. 

"  Percy  has  got  a  new  tomato  and  he  calls  it 
Emily,"  she  announced. 

"  Emmie  Lee,"  corrected  Nellie. 

"  You  mustn't  allow  that  to  upset  you,"  said 
George. 

"  But  he's  going  to  bring  her  to  see  me,  and  he 
wants  me  to  write  to  her.  Oh  dear!  I  do  pray  it 
may  be  a  blessing  to  him." 

"  Try  not  to  cry  any  more,  or  you  will  have  such 
a  headache,"  said  Nellie  soothingly. 

"  I  should  not  have  thought,"  remarked  George, 
"  that  tomatoes  were  worth  crying  about  anyhow." 

"  All  the  information  was  there,  but  rather  too 
condensed,"  explained  Nellie.  "  Mr.  Taverner  dis- 
covered in  one  of  his  glass-houses  — " 


186  A  DRAKE  BY  GEORGE ! 

"  Oh,  no,  Nellie,  you  are  silly,  child.  It  was  at  a 
garden-party." 

"  You  begin  breakfast,  and  let  me  tell  Mr.  Drake 
in  my  own  rambling  fashion,"  said  Nellie,  coaxing  the 
lady  into  her  cushioned  chair,  then  slipping  into  her 
own  place  behind  the  tea-tray.  "  Mr.  Taverner  dis- 
covered his  foreman  had  cultivated  a  particularly 
fine  tomato-plant  unawares,  and  he  made  up  his 
mind  it  was  a  new  species,  so  he  means  to  intro- 
duce it  to  the  market  under  the  name  of  Emmie 
Lee." 

"  He's  full  of  dirty  little  tricks  like  that,"  George 
grumbled. 

"  And  she's  the  great-grandchild  of  a  clergyman, 
so  there  cannot  be  anything  wrong  with  the  family," 
sobbed  Miss  Yard. 

"  You  must  stop  crying  at  once,"  said  Nellie 
sternly. 

"  My  dear,  I  will  cry  and  be  happy." 

"  The  truth  of  the  matter  is,  Percy  has  got  a 
young  woman  ?  "  George  suggested. 

"  That's  it,"  said  Nellie.  "  And  he's  naming  the 
new  tomato  after  her." 

"  Because  it  matches  her  complexion,  I  suppose. 
What  has  he  got  to  be  married  on?  " 

"  It's  not  love,  he  says.  It's  money.  I  am  so 
thankful." 


SOME  LEADING  INCIDENTS          187 

"  It  is  love,  Miss  Sophy.  Love  on  both  sides,  at 
first  sight,  and  all  the  way." 

"  Of  course  it  is,  my  dear.  Poor  dear  Percy !  He 
was  such  a  gentleman,  and  he  did  work  so  hard.  If 
I  could  have  seen  him  once  more,  just  to  tell  him 
how  happy  I  am  — " 

"  Now  you  are  not  to  say  anything  more  until 
you  have  eaten  your  breakfast,"  Nellie  ordered,  as 
she  rose  to  supply  the  old  lady  with  a  fresh  handker- 
chief and  a  piece  of  buttered  toast. 

That  morning  George  wrote  a  curt  and  final  note 
to  Mr.  Hunter,  announcing  his  intention  of  leaving 
Highfield  within  the  next  few  days,  and  enclosing 
the  receipt  duly  signed.  He  then  approached  Nellie, 
informed  her  duty  was  calling  him  elsewhere,  and 
explained  that,  before  his  departure,  a  little  cheque 
from  Miss  Yard  would  be  acceptable. 

"  You  know  the  rules,"  she  said.  "  I  have  to  give 
an  account  of  my  stewardship  to  the  trustees." 

"  Yes,  but  Aunt  Sophy  owes  me  rent,  and  you 
mustn't  allow  her  generous  nature  to  be  restrained 
if  she  wishes  to  add  a  few  pounds  by  way  of  bonus," 
said  George. 

"  There  are  to  be  no  additions  whatever,"  she 
said  firmly.  "  I'll  let  Miss  Sophy  give  you  a  quar- 
ter's rent,  but  no  more.  She  can't  afford  it,  as  her 
bank-account  is  low." 


188  A  DRAKE  BY  GEORGE ! 

"  Because  she  gives  all  her  money  to  Percy.  You 
let  her  do  that,"  cried  George  wrathfully. 

"  How  can  I  prevent  it  ?  Mr.  Taverner  does  bleed 
her  frightfully,  but  he's  a  trustee,  and  her  nephew." 

"  So  he  can  levy  blackmail,  grab  all  his  aunt's 
money,  ransack  my  home !  He's  above  the  law,  while 
I'm  crushed  down  by  it.  The  kindest  thing  I  can 
say  about  Percy  is  to  call  him  a  kleptomaniac,  though 
I  believe  he's  a  pirate." 

"  I  want  you  to  tell  me  who  really  does  own  the 
house  and  furniture.  And  why  are  you  going?  I'm 
sure  you  wouldn't  leave  Highfield  unless  you  had  to. 
I  promise  not  to  tell  any  one,"  said  Nellie  eagerly. 

"  Not  even  Sidney  Brock  ?  " 

**  You  are  not  to  mention  his  name  to  me.  You 
know  quite  well  I  never  see  him  now  that  he's  given 
up  the  choir,"  said  Nellie,  flushing  with  shame,  in- 
dignation, and  other  things. 

*'  I  should  have  said  nothing  if  he  hadn't  written 
to  you.  I  saw  the  postmark  was  Highfield  —  and 
of  course  I  felt  jealous,"  said  George  composedly. 

"  Yes,  he  did  write,  and  asked  me  to  meet  him 
again.  Just  a  selfish  letter,"  snapped  Nellie.  "  I'm 
not  going  to  answer  it.  Now  I've  told  you  my  se- 
crets, and  I  expect  to  hear  yours." 

"  I  never  did  like  the  idea  of  keeping  anything 
from  you,"  said  George  doubtfully. 

"  Especially  as  Mr.  Hunter  would  tell  me  every- 


SOME  LEADING  INCIDENTS          189 

thing,  if  I  liked  to  write  and  inform  him  I  cannot 
undertake  my  new  duties  until  I  have  the  whole 
position  explained  to  me." 

"  If  you  tell  Kezia  and  Bessie  there  will  be  a 
fearful  rumpus." 

"  I  won't  say  a  word  to  either.  I  don't  care 
much  about  them,  now  I  see  how  grasping  they  are, 
though  it's  only  natural  I  suppose.  Mrs.  Drake 
treated  them  more  like  relations  than  servants,  and 
they  are  quite  sure  she  meant  them  to  own  every- 
thing." 

"  They  know  my  aunt  left  a  will,"  said  George. 

"  She  left  about  a  hundred,"  laughed  Nellie. 
"  Kezia  has  fifty,  Bessie  has  forty,  Miss  Sophy  has 
two,  and  I  have  one." 

"  But  the  will  in  my  favour  is  the  only  legal  one ; 
and  it's  the  only  one  the  trustees  know  about." 

"  Some  of  the  papers  were  signed  and  dated, 
though  none  were  witnessed.  Anyhow,  they  are  all 
later  than  your  will,"  said  Nellie. 

George  thought  he  could  see  what  she  was  driving 
at.  Miss  Yard  would  leave  the  entire  property  to 
Nellie  if  she  could ;  and  his  aunt  had  certainly  left  a 
scrap  of  paper  expressing  a  wish  that  her  sister 
should  own  the  house.  No  doubt  Nellie  has  this 
document  hidden  away  safely.  It  did  not  matter 
much,  and  yet  George  felt  uncomfortable  at  the  idea 
of  his  wife  owning  the  property. 


190  A  DRAKE  BY  GEORGE! 

"  I'll  tell  you  the  truth,"  he  said  boldly.  «  My 
aunt  lost  her  affection  for  me  rather  during  the  last 
years  of  her  life,  as  she  thought  I  didn't  put  my 
whole  heart  into  my  work,  and  perhaps  she  didn't 
want  me  to  own  the  property.  Still,  she  never 
destroyed  the  will,  and  that  leaves  the  house  to 
me." 

"But  who  owns  the  furniture?" 

"  Last  week  it  was  mine.  Now  it  belongs  to  Aunt 
Sophy." 

"  You  never  gave  it  her !  " 

"  She  has  bought  it.  I  offered  it  to  her  through 
Hunter,  and  he  advised  Percy  to  buy  it  with  her 
money." 

"  That  means  the  furniture  belongs  to  Mr.  Ta- 
verner." 

"  Aunt  Sophy  paid  every  penny  of  the  purchase 
money,  therefore  it  belongs  to  her.  I  have  you  as 
a  witness  to  prove  it." 

"  She  advanced  the  money  to  Mr.  Taverner.  She 
didn't  even  know  what  he  wanted  it  for,"  cried  Nellie. 

"  It  will  come  out  at  her  death,  when  Percy  claims 
the  furniture.  We  must  keep  the  cheque,  produce  it 
to  Percy,  and  demand  an  explanation.  If  he  refuses 
to  withdraw  his  claim,  we  will  threaten  to  expose  his 
knavish  tricks  before  his  high-minded  Emmie,  the 
whole  of  her  virtuous  family,  and  the  immaculate 
firm  of  Cross  and  Martin." 


SOME  LEADING  INCIDENTS          191 

"  We !  "  laughed  Nellie.  "  Do  you  suppose  I  will 
be  the  accomplice  of  your  villainy?" 

"  This  afternoon,"  said  George,  "  I  am  going  into 
town,  and  there  I  shall  buy  a  sixpenny  printed  form 
of  Will.  I  shall  then  insert  what  is  necessary,  words 
to  the  effect  that  all  the  furniture,  with  everything 
that  Aunt  Sophy  dies  possessed  of,  are  to  come  to 
you.  I  have  kept  a  copy  of  aunt's  will,  which  was 
properly  drawn  up  by  a  lawyer,  so  I  shall  know  how 
to  do  it.  Then  you  must  ask  Aunt  Sophy  to  sign 
it.  Kezia  and  Bessie  ought  to  be  the  witnesses.  It 
would  serve  them  right,"  said  George,  chuckling 
vastly. 

"  I'll  have  nothing  to  do  with  it,"  cried  Nellie. 

"  Then  I  must  work  alone  as  usual.  I'm  not  go- 
ing to  let  you  be  defrauded.  The  only  way  to  get 
justice  is  to  help  yourself,"  declared  George. 
"  There's  Hunter  now !  He  would  give  twopence 
with  one  hand  and  steal  your  last  sovereign  with  the 
other.  And,  if  you  caught  the  rascal,  he  would 
swear  you  had  dropped  the  sovereign  in  his  pocket. 
And  he  wouldn't  rest  until  he  had  got  back  the  two- 
pence. Hunter  stands  for  justice;  he  deals  in  it 
like  Percy,  who  puts  his  sound  tomatoes  on  top  of 
the  basket  to  hide  the  rotten  ones  underneath." 

"  I'm  afraid  you  don't  love  Mr.  Hunter,"  laughed 
Nellie.  "  Is  it  because  he  has  ordered  you  to  clear 
out?" 


192  A  DRAKE  BY  GEORGE ! 

"  He  and  Percy  between  them  hatched  the  dirty 
plot.  They  know  I  want  money  — " 

"  A  few  days  ago  you  were  refusing  it." 

"  Ah,  but  that  was  tact.  The  pair  of  rascals  of- 
fered to  buy  the  furniture,  if  I  would  promise  to 
leave  my  own  home.  That  was  bribery  and  corrup- 
tion. They  want  to  get  rid  of  me ;  they  would  like 
me  to  starve  in  a  ditch,  and  they  would  prefer  the 
ditch  to  have  water  in  it.  Hunter's  not  quite  so  bad 
as  Percy,  I  think.  Hunter  has  to  be  a  scoundrel, 
or  he  couldn't  make  a  living.  But  Percy  is  just  a 
homicidal  maniac." 

"  They  are  afraid  you  might  try  to  influence  Miss 
Sophy,"  suggested  Nellie,  when  she  had  done  laugh- 
ing. 

"  It's  Percy's  doing  entirely.  He's  a  common 
malefactor  himself,  so  he  thinks  I  must  be  the  same. 
He's  not  going  to  have  any  one  else  milking  his 
golden  goose.  Besides,  he  knows  how  fond  I  am  of 
Aunt  Sophy,  and  what  great  care  I  take  of  her.  I 
have  saved  her  from  serious  injury  many  a  time, 
and  that  doesn't  suit  Percy  at  all.  He  wants  the 
dear  old  lady  to  fall  about,  and  hurt  herself,  and 
die  of  shock,  so  that  he  can  get  her  money,  which 
I  hope  will  be  a  curse  to  him." 

"  I  understand  the  position,"  said  Nellie.  "  You 
really  are  going?  "  she  added. 


SOME  LEADING  INCIDENTS          193 

"  I  must  go,"  replied  George  gloomily.  "  It  is 
hard  on  both  of  us,  but  you  must  try  to  be  brave,  for 
we  shall  soon  meet  again.  Aunt  Sophy  won't  live 
long  when  she  hasn't  me  to  look  after  her." 

"  Thank  you  for  another  compliment,"  cried 
Nellie. 

"  You  deserve  them  all,"  said  George,  with  more 
tenderness  than  usual. 

He  set  off  presently,  carrying  the  precious  vases 
wrapped  up  like  twin-babies  and,  arriving  at  the 
market-town,  he  entered  the  shop  of  the  principal 
ironmonger,  who  dealt  also  in  all  kinds  of  earthen- 
ware goods,  and  had  the  notice,  "  Art  pottery  a 
Specialty,"  posted  in  one  of  his  windows.  The  pro- 
prietor advanced  to  meet  him,  and  was  highly  flat- 
tered when  George  remarked  he  had  come  to  obtain 
the  impartial  opinion  of  a  specialist  regarding  the 
value  of  some  Chinese  vases. 

"  If  I  can't  give  it  ye,  sir,  I  don't  know  who  can. 
I  ha'  handled  cloam  all  my  life,  as  my  father  did 
avore  me,  and  I'll  quote  ye  a  fair  market  price  vor 
anything  you  like  to  show  me.  They  are  amazing 
ugly  things,  sure  enough,  wi'  they  old  snakes  all 
twisted  round  'em,"  said  the  honest  tradesman  when 
George  had  undressed  his  babies. 

"  They're  beautifully  glazed,"  said  the  owner 
proudly. 


194  A  DRAKE  BY  GEORGE! 

"  Yes,  they'm  nice  and  shiny.  'Tis  done  by  bak- 
ing 'em.  Now  you  want  me  to  tell  you  how  much 
they'm  worth  ?  " 

"  Suppose  I  asked  you  to  buy  them,  how  much 
would  you  offer  ?  " 

"  I  might  give  ye  eighteenpence  vor  the  pair, 
though  I  should  fancy  I  wur  doing  ye  a  favour. 
Some  folks  like  these  ugly  things  —  I  sell  a  lot  o' 
they  china  cats  wi'  the  eyes  starting  out  o'  their 
heads  —  but  I  would  be  satisfied  if  I  got  a  shilling 
each  vor  these  old  vases." 

"  A  gentleman  told  me  the  other  day  they  were 
worth  a  lot  of  money  —  hundreds  of  pounds  in  fact," 
said  the  astounded  George. 

"  I  believe  ye,  sir.  Plenty  o'  gentlemen,  when 
they  see  a  bit  o'  cloam  that  ain't  quite  the  same  as 
ordinary  cloam,  will  tell  ye  it's  worth  money.  Cloam 
is  wonderful  cheap  just  now,  sir.  I  can  show  ye 
some  amazing  bargains  in  vases  at  half  a  crown  the 
pair,  and  far  better  value  than  these  old  china 
things." 

"  But  the  gentleman,  who  told  me  they  were  val- 
uable, came  from  London,"  George  protested. 

"  Well,  sir,"  replied  the  little  provincial,  smiling 
broadly,  "  ain't  that  just  where  all  the  vules  do 
come  from  ?  " 

There  was  another  china-shop  in  the  town,  so 
George  tried  his  fortune  there.  This  shop  was  kept 


SOME  LEADING  INCIDENTS          195 

by  a  fat  lady,  who  turned  sour  when  George  informed 
her  he  had  not  come  to  purchase  anything;  and 
passed  into  indignation  when  he  had  unveiled  the 
vases. 

"  Take  'em  away,  sir,"  she  said  sternly.  "  I 
wouldn't  show  such  vulgar  stuff  in  my  window  if 
you  paid  me  for  it.  My  establishment  is  noted  for 
chaste  designs  —  flowers,  and  birds,  and  butterflies 
—  little  lambs,  and  shepherdesses  —  and  I  deal  wi' 
gentlefolk." 

"  A  thing  can  be  ugly,  and  yet  priceless,"  said 
George. 

"  It's  not  the  ugliness  so  much  as  the  obscenity," 
replied  the  stout  lady,  who  was  herself  no  gracious 
object.  "  They  were  made,  I  fancy,  by  poor  be- 
nighted heathens ;  though  why  people  ship  such  stuff 
into  England,  when  they  can  buy  cheap  and  beauti- 
ful Christian  home-made  vases  from  such  establish- 
ments as  mine,  I  can't  tell  ye,"  she  declared,  han- 
dling one  of  the  treasures  so  recklessly  that  George 
darted  forward  in  great  terror. 

"  Oh,  you  needn't  be  alarmed,"  she  went  on.  "  If  I 
did  break  it,  I'd  give  ye  another  pair,  and  something 
to  be  proud  of.  I  should  smash  these  nasty  old 
things  into  crocks  and  put  'em  in  my  flower-pots." 

George  returned  to  Highfield,  wondering  greatly. 
He  knew  nothing  whatever  concerning  china,  and 
apparently  the  local  experts  were  no  better  in- 


196  A  DRAKE  BY  GEORGE! 

formed  than  himself.  Crampy,  on  the  other  hand, 
had  valued  the  vases  at  a  thousand  pounds,  although 
he  admitted  the  possibility  of  their  being  forgeries ; 
he  was,  however,  prepared  to  pay  the  money  and 
take  the  risk.  Before  reaching  home  George  had 
fully  decided  to  secure  the  thousand  pounds  before 
he  commenced  his  pilgrimage. 

He  was  absent  from  the  village  about  three  hours, 
and  during  that  short  period  all  manner  of  things 
had  happened.  The  Yellow  Leaf  had  often  noted 
with  regret  that  a  strong  leading  incident  rarely  oc- 
curred in  Highfield ;  but,  when  one  did  take  place,  it 
was  almost  sure  to  be  accompanied  by  another, 
to  the  great  confusion  of  the  inhabitants  who  were 
compelled  to  discuss  two  incidents  at  the  same 
time. 

The  first,  and  by  far  the  most  startling,  incident 
took  place  quite  early  in  the  afternoon.  Nellie  had 
gone  into  Miss  Yard's  bedroom  to  look  up  some 
mending,  and  presently  seated  herself  beside  the 
window  which  overlooked  the  village  street.  That 
letter  from  Sidney  worried  her,  but  the  knowledge  of 
his  loose  principles  troubled  her  far  more.  She  re- 
membered the  words  of  his  defence,  indeed  there  was 
nothing  much  about  him  she  had  forgotten,  as  her 
memory  was  much  better  than  Miss  Yard's ;  and  still 
she  could  not  decide  whether  to  answer  the  letter  or 
to  ignore  it ;  whether  to  meet  him  once  more  or  to  let 


SOME  LEADING  INCIDENTS          197 

him  go ;  whether  to  go  on  thinking  of  him  —  but  that 
she  had  to  do ;  or  to  hate  him  —  though  she  couldn't. 

"  It's  a  dreary  outlook,"  she  murmured.  "  Little 
work  and  no  love  makes  me  a  dull  maid.  I'm  alone 
in  the  world,  and  somebody  loves  me,  but  he's  a  bad 
somebody.  And  another  somebody  is  willing  to 
marry  me,  but  he's  a  silly  old  somebody.  And  I  want 
the  bad  somebody." 

"  Hook  it ! "  shrieked  a  parrot  from  the  garden, 
addressing  a  bumble-bee  which  was  threatening  to 
enter  its  cage. 

"  Polly  gives  me  advice,"  she  murmured.  "  Hook 
it!  Hook  George,  and  pour  out  rivers  of  tea,  and 
put  on  his  slippers  in  respectable  humility.  No, 
thankye,  Poll!  I  won't  hook  it.  I'll  fish  for  some- 
thing better,  else,  when  Miss  Sophy  dies,  I  must 
find  another  job,  and  go  on  jobbing  it,"  she  whis- 
pered, looking  into  the  glass,  "  until  I  don't  look 
anything  like  so  saucy  as  I'm  doing  now." 

"  Nellie,  where  be  to  ?  "  called  the  equally  saucy 
parrot. 

"  Here  she  be ! "  answered  the  girl  from  the  win- 
dow. "  Her's  going  to  write  to  the  bad  somebody, 
and  her's  going  to  meet  him,  and  her's  going  to  be 
a  soft  dafty  little  vule  and  believe  his  nonsense." 

While  she  spoke  a  rumbling  of  wheels  heralded  the 
approach  of  the  incident,  which  had  already  oc- 
curred with  disastrous  results  along  the  more  im- 


198  A  DRAKE  BY  GEORGE! 

portant  reaches  of  the  street.  Nellie  remained  at 
the  open  window  out  of  curiosity  until  the  incident, 
which  was  of  no  importance  to  her  at  the  moment, 
became  revealed  in  the  form  of  a  young  and  pretty 
girl,  gazing  about  in  a  highly  interested  fashion  as 
she  swept  past  in  an  open  wagonette;  a  beautifully 
dressed  young  lady,  certainly  no  more  than  eight- 
een, who  looked  quite  capable  of  travelling  round 
the  world  without  an  escort. 

"  Whoever  can  she  be  ?  "  Nellie  murmured,  as  she 
went  towards  her  own  room,  to  get  that  letter  writ- 
ten before  she  changed  her  mind  again. 

She  could  hear  voices  buzzing  in  the  kitchen,  where 
Kezia  and  Bessie  were  discussing  the  incident ;  pres- 
ently she  opened  the  door  and  listened,  for  the  air 
was  thrilling  with  unpleasant  sounds  of  proper  nouns 
and  most  improper  adjectives;  finally  she  went 
downstairs  and  presented  herself  at  the  kitchen  door. 

"  Oh,  Miss  Nellie !  "  cried  Kezia.  "  Did  you  see 
the  person  driving  past?  " 

"  I  did  see  her,"  replied  Nellie.     "Who  is  she?  " 

"  Ah,  that's  what  every  one's  asking.  I  shouldn't 
like  to  say  who  she  be.  See  how  bold  she  stared  as 
she  drove  along ! "  said  Bessie. 

"  She  warn't  so  bold-looking  as  that  other  one," 
remarked  Kezia. 

"  She  wur  just  a  bit  o'  painted  brass,"  said  Bessie. 
"  This  gal's  terrible  young.  Oh,  ain't  it  awful  to  see 


SOME  LEADING  INCIDENTS          199 

'em  all  so  wicked!  Folks  are  saying  they  won't  ha' 
much  more  of  it." 

"  Where  was  she  going? "  asked  Nellie  impa- 
tiently. 

"  To  Black  Anchor  Farm.  Where  else  would  she 
be  going?  The  driver  stopped  by  the  green  and 
asked  the  way  to  Black  Anchor." 

"  'Tis  three  o'clock.  She  can't  get  away  to- 
night," Kezia  whispered. 

"  She  brought  a  bag —  she's  going  to  stay  a  long 
while,"  muttered  Bessie,  covering  her  face  for  shame. 

"  Policeman  ought  to  get  hold  of  her  and  lock  her 
up,"  cried  Kezia  wrathfully. 

"  Ah,  that  he  ought,"  agreed  Bessie.  "  If  me  and 
Robert  wur  to  have  a  few  words,  he'd  be  round  quick 
enough  and  tell  us  to  keep  our  mouths  shut.  Pity  I 
b'ain't  an  actress !  I  could  do  what  I  liked  then. 
The  folks  won't  stand  much  more  of  it.  I  wish  Cap- 
tain Drake  wur  back  again ;  he'd  have  they  Brocks 
out  of  the  country  in  no  time." 

Nellie  crept  back  to  her  room  and  destroyed  the 
unfinished  letter.  Then  she  drew  down  the  blind. 

The  second  incident  commenced  about  an  hour 
later,  when  another  conveyance  reached  Highfield  and 
proceeded  at  once  to  Windward  House.  A  gentle- 
man stepped  out  and  inquired  for  Mr.  Drake.  Hav- 
ing learnt  from  Kezia  that  George  was  absent,  but 
expected  home  at  any  time,  the  gentleman  said  he 


200  A  DRAKE  BY  GEORGE! 

would  take  a  stroll  round  the  village  and  await  his 
coming. 

This  incident  would  have  passed  almost  unnoticed, 
so  far  as  the  general  public  were  concerned,  had  the 
stranger  been  of  the  usual  speechless  type  of  tourist, 
content  to  stare  deferentially  at  the  local  antiquities 
and  to  wander  aimlessly  round  the  churchyard.  But 
he  was  not,  as  he  himself  admitted,  within  measur- 
able distance  of  an  ordinary  man;  for  he  joined  a 
group  of  villagers,  who  were  discussing  the  latest 
tragedy  in  whispers,  and  insisted  upon  introducing 
himself  and  asking  questions  about  themselves. 

In  the  first  place  he  came  from  America,  and  he 
lost  no  time  in  informing  his  listeners  that  an 
American  gentleman  was  the  only  perfect  specimen 
of  humanity  to  be  found  upon  the  face  of  the  globe. 
In  the  second  place  he  was  a  millionaire,  and  had  no 
bashfulness  about  advertising  the  fact.  Finally,  he 
enjoyed  use  of  the  name  Josiah  P.  Jenkins,  and  his 
business  premises,  or  at  least  some  of  them,  were 
situated  in  Philadelphia,  which,  he  explained,  was 
the  city  of  brotherly  love,  where  Irish  toasted  Eng- 
lish, whites  embraced  negroes,  Jews  dined  with  Chris- 
tians, and  sharp  practice  was  unknown. 

By  this  time  the  poor  little  actress,  driving  in 
solitary  state  towards  Black  Anchor,  was  almost  for- 
gotten. Actresses  had  occurred  before,  unhappily, 
but  this  was  the  first  occasion  during  the  entire 


SOME  LEADING  INCIDENTS          201 

history  of  the  universe  upon  which  a  millionaire  had 
walked  and  talked  in  Highfield.  Mr.  Jenkins  was 
bestowing  a  new  tradition  upon  the  village;  he  was 
quite  the  equal  of  Queen  Elizabeth,  who  had  slept,  and 
very  much  superior  to  King  Charles,  who  had  hidden, 
somewhere  in  the  neighbourhood.  Here  was  an  in- 
dividual who  reckoned  the  weekly  wage,  not  by  a 
few  shillings,  according  to  local  custom,  but  by  in- 
numerable dollars  every  moment.  The  people  gazed 
upon  him  with  reverence,  while  children  approached 
to  touch  him,  and  discover  what  metal  he  was  made 
of,  while  some  of  the  more  intelligent  made  remarks 
concerning  copper  which  the  great  man  did  not 
seem  to  understand.  The  Yellow  Leaf  admitted  aft- 
erwards he  was  thankful  he  had  lived  to  see  it,  al- 
though he  would  have  respected  millionaires  far  more 
had  he  never  set  eyes  upon  the  corporeal  presence 
of  Mr.  Jenkins.  It  was  wonderful,  he  added,  how 
quickly  these  Americans  acquired  a  superficial  knowl- 
edge of  the  English  language. 

"  What  might  be  your  occupation,  sir  ?  "  asked 
the  Dumpy  Philosopher. 

"  Railways,  my  friend,  with  patent  medicines  as  a 
side-line,"  replied  Mr.  Jenkins. 

'*  I  hope  you  ain't  come  here  to  build  none,  nor 
make  none,"  said  the  Yellow  Leaf. 

"  I  have  come  here  in  my  private  capacity  as 
art-lover,  collector,  connoisseur.  I  am  awaiting  the 


A  DRAKE  BY  GEORGE! 

arrival  of  one  of  your  leading  citizens,  Mr.  Drake  of 
Windward  House." 

"  And  here  he  be,  bringing  home  the  washing," 
cried  Squinting  Jack,  as  George  at  the  moment  ap- 
peared upon  the  road  with  a  fantastic  white  bundle 
beneath  each  arm. 

"  Don't  you  believe  his  tale,"  whispered  the  Dumpy 
Philosopher  to  his  friends,  as  the  American  started 
forward  to  meet  George.  "  He'm  going  to  make 
that  railway  across  Dartmoor  what'll  ruin  the  whole 
lot  of  us  —  and  Mr.  Drake  ha'  been  and  brought  'en 
here." 


CHAPTER  XII 

A    SPLENDID    BARGAIN 

IT  was  the  most  awkwardly  thrilling  moment  of 
George's  life,  when  he  found  himself  confronted 
by  the  millionaire  before  the  eyes  of  the  Elder 
Inhabitants.  Because  of  the  couple  of  ridiculous 
bundles  he  could  not  grasp  the  hand  of  Mr.  Jen- 
kins ;  he  dared  not  explain  he  was  carrying  the  porce- 
lain about  with  him ;  so  he  muttered  something  about 
grand  weather  and  unexpected  pleasure,  then  raced 
homewards  with  the  American  ambling  at  his  side. 

"  Crampy  flung  me  a  line  telling  me  about  your 
masterpieces.  I  beat  the  sun  this  morning  in  an 
aeroplane  invented  by  a  friend ;  came  to  turf  on 
Salisbury  plain ;  friend  and  driver  broke  rudder  and 
ankle ;  caught  a  horse,  rode  him  barebacked  to  the 
nearest  garage ;  bought  a  car,  drove  it  fifty  miles ; 
car  broke  down,  sold  it  second-hand,  hired  a  train, 
drove  here  from  the  station  —  all  so  to  speak.  If 
I'm  not  first,  I  guess  I'm  a  derned  good  second." 

"  You  needn't  have  hurried  quite  so  much,"  gasped 
George,  wishing  he  could  exaggerate  like  that. 

"  I  guess,  sir,  when  it  comes  to  business,  a  man 
203 


204  A  DRAKE  BY  GEORGE ! 

has  got  to  put  in  his  best  licks,  or  some  other  fellow 
will  pull  his  foot  ahead  and  spudgel  up  the  goods. 
Cramp  has  unloosed  his  jaw-tackle  to  the  crowd. 
I'm  not  particular  scared  of  the  Britishers,  who 
look  before  they  leap,  and  think  before  they  look, 
and  make  their  wills  before  they  think;  but  there's 
quite  a  few  Americans  in  your  London,  England,  nos- 
ing around  for  something  specially  ancient  to  take 
home.  There's  Wenceslas  Q.  Alloway  of  Milwau- 
kee. Lager-beer  he  is,  or  was,  for  now  he's  mostly 
grape-juice  for  conscience'  sake;  with  an  elegant 
white  beard  and  the  innocent  ways  of  an  archangel 
—  he's  got  this  collecting  craze  so  bad  he'd  mortgage 
his  immortality,  or  a  thousand  years  of  it,  for  a  bit 
of  old  china,  though  he'd  try  to  stick  in  a  clause  to 
best  the  devil,  for  he's  a  pretty  derned  orthodox 
First  Baptist  on  a  Sunday.  I'm  a  Second  Adventist, 
and  my  crowd  has  just  built  a  church  in  Philadel- 
phia which  for  size  and  shape  makes  your  Westmin- 
ster Abbey  look  a  bit  retrospective." 

"  Come  inside,"  said  George  faintly.  "  I'm  afraid 
I  can't  offer  you  much  hospitality,  as  I'm  only  stay- 
ing here  with  my  aunt  who  is  not  able  to  receive 
visitors." 

"  Don't  mention  hospitality,  sir.  Just  give  me  a 
sight  of  your  vases,  and  if  they're  genuine,  you'll  be 
giving  me  a  gorge.  Wonderful  pretty  place.  I'd 
like  to  ship  the  whole  of  this  township  across  to 


A  SPLENDID  BARGAIN  205 

America,  put  up  a  barb-wire  fence  around,  and 
charge  a  dollar  for  admission.  Beautiful  place  to 
be  buried  in!  Might  I  inquire  if  you  are  carrying 
anything  specially  out  of  date?" 

"  I've  been  shopping,"  replied  George. 

"  Mr.  Drake ! "  called  the  voice  of  the  post-mis- 
tress. "  A  telegram  vor  ye,  sir." 

George  tore  open  the  envelope  and  read,  "  Just 
heard  from  Crampy.  Fifteen  hundred  if  O.  K. 
Alloway." 

"  Knew  he'd  switch  on  to  the  main  track  up  to 
time,  but  he  can't  begin  to  best  me.  Guess  he's 
exceeding  your  speed-limit  right  now,  and  about  mid- 
night his  automobile  will  be  killing  ducks  in  this 
neighbourhood,"  said  Jenkins  complacently. 

"I  suppose  you  know  something  about  china?" 
George  suggested,  as  he  ushered  the  visitor  into  the 
dining-room. 

"  My  knowledge  of  porcelain  extends  from  my  head 
to  my  finger-ends.  When  you  show  me  Chinese 
vases  I'm  at  home,  sir,  I'm  surrounded  with  familiar 
objects,  I'm  behind  the  scenes.  Crampy  knows 
something,  but  I  can  run  a  saw  upon  him.  When 
his  wells  dry  up,  that's  the  time,  sir,  mine  begin  to 
flow,"  said  Jenkins,  ostentatiously  producing  a  long 
cheque-book  and  slapping  it  upon  the  table. 

"  If  you  will  excuse  me  a  moment,  I'll  go  for  the 
vases,"  said  George. 


206  A  DRAKE  BY  GEORGE! 

He  carried  the  bundles  up  to  his  room,  and  con- 
sulted the  list  which  Crampy  had  sent  him.  Having 
satisfied  himself  that  the  names  of  Jenkins  and 
Alloway  appeared  upon  it,  he  went  downstairs  with 
the  undraped  vases,  thankful  his  visitor  had  called  at 
the  time  of  day  when-  Miss  Yard  and  Nellie  were  shut 
up  together,  and  Kezia  was  occupied  in  the  kitchen. 

The  millionaire  stood  in  the  attitude  of  a  clergy- 
man about  to  receive  a  child  for  baptism;  and,  when 
George  extended  one  of  the  vases,  he  accepted  it 
reverently,  then  walked  to  the  window,  examined  it, 
tapped  and  stroked  it,  hugged  and  adored  it,  and 
very  nearly  kissed  it,  before  turning  to  exclaim, 
"  These  are  the  goods,  Mr.  Drake !  " 

"  Yes,  they  are  very  fine  specimens,"  replied 
George  casually. 

"  I  don't  say  they  are  unique  at  present,  though 
that's  what  they  will  be  when  I  get  'em  across  to 
Philadelphia.  I  guess  there's  been  an  empty  man- 
telpiece in  the  Emperor  of  China's  palace  for  quite 
a  few  years." 

George  explained  the  vases  had  been  discovered  by 
his  uncle  during  one  of  the  anti-foreign  riots  in  China 
many  years  ago. 

"  Your  uncle  was  a  great  lad,  sir.  He  saw  his 
chance  to  loot  the  pieces,  so  he  repelled  boarders  and 
took  'em.  I  should  call  your  uncle  a  public  bene- 
factor. He  removed  these  vases  from  the  custody 


A  SPLENDID  BARGAIN  207 

of  the  uncivilised  Chinee,  and  conferred  them  upon  the 
cultured  world  of  art.  When  the  potter  turned  them 
on  his  wheel,"  continued  Jenkins,  beginning  to 
rhapsodise,  "  he  little  thought  they  were  destined, 
by  a  far-seeing  Providence,  to  find  a  home  in  the 
United  States,  the  illustrious  city  of  Philadelphia, 
the  unassuming  if  somewhat  palatial  mansion  — " 

"  The  post-mistress  again ! "  exclaimed  George, 
hurrying  to  the  front  door. 

"  I  hadn't  hardly  got  back  home,  sir,  when  there 
come  another.  I  do  hope,  sir,  it  ain't  bad  news 
again,"  said  the  good  woman,  as  she  handed  over  a 
second  telegram. 

"  It's  of  no  consequence,"  said  George. 

"  I'm  very  glad  it  ain't  no  worse,  sir.  I  hope,  sir, 
you'm  going  on  well,"  said  Mrs.  Cann,  trusting  that 
an  interpretation  of  these  telegrams  might  be  vouch- 
safed to  her. 

George  cautiously  replied  that  his  lumbago  was 
improving  daily ;  then  he  returned  to  the  dining- 
room  and  said,  "  Here's  a  telegram  from  an  American 
named  Anderson.  He  asks  me  not  to  deal  with  any 
one  until  he  calls,  and  he  offers  seventeen  hundred." 

"  I  don't  know  the  fellow,"  said  Jenkins  sus- 
piciously. "  I  would  advise  you  to  have  nothing  to 
do  with  him.  He  may  be  a  crook,  a  man  of  straw." 

"  He's  all  right,"  said  George.  "  Crampy  sent  me 
a  list  of  collectors  I  could  trust,  and  his  name  is  on 


208  A  DRAKE  BY  GEORGE! 

it.  I  suppose  Crampy  himself  is  safe,  as  a  firm  of 
lawyers,  who  are  supposed  to  be  respectable,  sent 
him  down  here." 

"  Crampy  is  as  genuine  as  the  rising  sun.  He's 
valuer  to  your  Court  of  Probate,  he's  got  a  fixed 
place  of  business,  his  name's  in  the  Directory.  He's 
just  got  to  tote  fair,  but  he  won't  get  rich  till  he 
grows  more  brain.  I've  known  Crampy  to  pay  down 
big  money  for  a  fake." 

"  He  made  me  an  offer  for  these  vases,"  said 
George. 

"  I'll  double  it,"  cried  the  millionaire,  nestling 
down  to  his  cheque-book. 

"  He  offered  me  a  thousand  pounds." 

"  Then  I'll  give  you  two  thousand." 

"  I  might  get  even  more  at  a  sale,"  George  mut- 
tered greedily. 

"  I  guess  you  don't  know  a  great  lot  about  sales," 
said  Jenkins  pityingly.  **  If  you  put  these  vases 
up  to  auction,  collectors  and  dealers  would  get  to- 
gether and  fix  the  price  beforehand.  I'm  playing 
my  lone  hand  in  this  game,  for  I'm  dead  set  on  get- 
ting the  ornaments,  and  I  don't  mind  paying  a  fancy 
price  for  'em.  Crampy  won't  go  beyond  a  thou- 
sand, and  even  Alloway  reckons  he's  sure  of  them 
for  fifteen  hundred.  The  other  chap  offers  seven- 
teen hundred  it's  true,  but  I  have  my  doubts  about 
him.  I  didn't  mean  to  bid  two  thousand,  but  I've 


A  SPLENDID  BARGAIN 

promised  to  double  Crampy's  offer,  and  I'm  a  man 
of  my  word  or  I'm  nothing.  Now,  sir  —  you  to 
play ! " 

"  I'll  take  it,"  said  George. 

"  Easy  way  of  making  money,  ain't  it?  "  said  the 
American  jauntily.  "If  you  wouldn't  mind  wrap- 
ping some  cotton-wool  and  paper  round  the  things, 
I'll  take  'em  right  along  with  me." 

"  Are  you  going  to  offer  me  a  cheque  ?  "  George 
stammered. 

"  I  was  going  to,  but  as  you  don't  know  a  great 
lot  about  me,  and  perhaps  you  don't  feel  like  relying 
on  Crampy's  introduction,  and  as  I  must  take  the 
pieces  right  away  with  me,  I'll  just  hand  over  the 
stuff  in  notes  upon  your  Bank  of  England  which,  so 
far  as  I  know,  hasn't  put  its  shutters  up,"  said 
the  millionaire,  producing  a  mighty  pocket-book. 
"  Here  you  are,  sir  —  four  five-hundreds,  and  may 
they  breed  you  a  bonanza.  Kindly  hand  me  a  form 
of  receipt ;  and  if  at  any  time  within  the  next  forty- 
eight  hours  the  vases  should  be  discovered  forgeries, 
I  am  at  liberty  to  return  them,  while  you  will  hand 
back  the  money.  At  the  expiration  of  the  forty- 
eight  hours  the  deal  is  closed  absolutely  and,  if  the 
things  are  fakes,  I  come  out  spindigo.  Don't  be 
ashamed  of  your  suspicions,  and  don't  consider  my 
feelings.  Hold  up  the  notes  to  the  light  and  take 
a  look  at  the  water-mark." 


210  A  DRAKE  BY  GEORGE! 

"  That's  just  what  I  was  doing,"  said  George 
feebly. 

A  few  minutes  later  the  millionaire  departed, 
George  walking  with  him  to  the  inn  where  his  con- 
veyance waited.  Here  also  wise  men  were  discussing 
the  state  of  decadence  towards  which  the  parish 
was  being  hurried  by  moral  failures  like  the  Brocks 
and  such  a  despicable  plotter  as  the  formerly  re- 
spected Mr.  Drake,  who  was  undoubtedly  scheming 
to  construct  that  Dartmoor  railway  by  means  of 
American  dollars.  Mr.  Jenkins  was  seen  to  drive 
away  by  the  Gentle  Shepherd,  who  reported  the  grati- 
fying intelligence  to  headquarters,  and  a  hearty  sigh 
of  relief  went  up  while  a  quantity  of  inferior  beer 
went  down.  Yet  nobody  sighed  so  deeply  or  so  joy- 
ously as  George  as  he  hurried  home  a  man  of  means 
at  last. 

Rapture  lost  half  its  charm  because  there  was 
nobody  with  whom  it  could  be  shared ;  for  Nellie, 
he  found,  had  retired  with  a  headache,  while  Bessie, 
upon  sentry  duty  near  the  bedroom  door,  repelled 
the  advance  of  Miss  Yard  who  was  in  tears  because 
they  would  not  let  her  in  to  see  the  poor  girl's  body. 

"  I  knew  she  would  go  like  that.  I  told  her  she 
had  a  heart,  because  she  was  such  a  good  girl,  and 
they  always  go  suddenly.  I  do  hope  you  won't  be 
the  next,  George.  Of  course  you  know  poor  Percy 
is  gone,"  she  wailed. 


A  SPLENDID  BARGAIN  211 

"  You  were  very  good  in  your  young  days,"  said 
George  gallantly,  "  but  you  are  still  alive.  There's 
nothing  much  the  matter  with  Percy,  except  that  he's 
going  to  get  married." 

"  Take  that  woman  away,"  snapped  Miss  Yard, 
"  and  make  her  stop  growing.  She  gets  worse  every 
day." 

"  I  finished  long  ago,  thankye,  miss,"  said  Bessie. 

"  What  a  wicked  story !  She's  done  a  lot  since 
yesterday,"  complained  Miss  Yard.  "  Do  let  me 
have  one  peep  at  my  dear  little  Nellie  before  they 
take  her  away." 

The  young  lady  herself  cried  out  and  hoped  they 
would  all  be  taken  away.  Peace  was  restored,  after 
Miss  Yard  had  tumbled  down  happily,  convinced  that 
the  age  of  miracles  was  not  past. 

George  woke  the  next  morning  with  a  sense  of 
prosperity  which  required  a  safety  valve  when  the 
inevitable  letter  from  Mr.  Hunter,  who  had  now 
shrunk  icily  into  a  solitary  initial  beneath  the  signa- 
ture Cross  and  Martin,  announced,  "  the  probate  of 
your  late  aunt's  will  has  been  granted,  and  you  are 
now  at  liberty  to  draw  cheques  against  the  balance 
of  two  hundred  pounds  lying  in  the  bank." 

George  felt  sufficiently  healthy  to  dig  potatoes, 
make  love,  or  perform  any  other  menial  act.  He 
ate  a  huge  breakfast,  then  climbed  into  an  apple-tree 
and  whistled  for  half  an  hour :  Miss  Yard,  sitting  at 


A  DRAKE  BY  GEORGE ! 

the  window,  declared  she  had  never  heard  the  black- 
birds sing  so  beautifully.  While  thus  relieving  his 
high  spirits  a  light  carriage  could  be  heard  ap- 
proaching ;  its  wheels  rattled  down  the  hill ;  the  driver 
shouted  to  the  horse;  and  the  conveyance  drew  up 
beside  the  garden-gate. 

"  Here's  another  millionaire ! "  George  chuckled, 
as  he  dropped  from  the  branches.  But  there  was 
nobody  except  the  driver,  whom  George  recognised 
as  belonging  to  the  principal  hotel  of  the  neighbour- 
ing town. 

"  I  was  to  give  you  this  letter,  sir,  and  to  bring 
you  this  box,  and  to  wait  for  an  answer,"  said  the 
man. 

"  Did  a  gentleman  called  Jenkins  send  you  ? " 
George  faltered,  receiving  the  box  with  the  dignity  of 
an  author  taking  back  his  rejected  masterpiece. 

"  That's  right,  sir.  I  was  to  get  back  as  quick 
as  I  can,  for  the  gentleman  wants  to  catch  a  train. 
Here's  the  letter,  sir ;  and  I  was  to  be  sure  and  take 
back  an  answer." 

George  hurried  indoors,  his  knees  wobbling;  tore 
open  the  envelope  and  read: 

"  It's  worse  than  a  falling  birth-rate,  but  the  vases 
are  fakes.  I  have  examined  them  carefully  with 
strong  glasses  and  discovered  marks  which  show  be- 
yond a  doubt  they  are  not  more  than  a  hundred 
years  old.  These  pieces  would  deceive  any  amateur 


A  SPLENDID  BARGAIN  213 

and  quite  a  few  experts :  they  fairly  hocussed  me  till 
I  turned  on  the  glasses.  This  will  make  your  soul 
sick,  I  guess,  but  you've  still  got  Crampy.  I  won't 
say  anything  to  queer  your  business;  but  take  my 
advice  and  don't  hawk  the  things  about,  or  some 
other  fellow  may  get  notions.  Your  best  chance  is 
Crampy,  right  now,  while  he's  innocent.  The  longer 
you  keep  the  vases  the  more  they'll  smell.  Kindly 
return  shinplasters  by  bearer,  and  pile  up  my  sym- 
pathy to  your  credit." 

George  sprang  to  the  box  and  wrenched  off  its  lid ; 
but  a  glance  dispelled  his  suspicions.  The  vases  had 
not  been  exchanged  for  local  beauties ;  they  had  been 
returned  undamaged  but  condemned.  Crampy  was 
honest,  and  Jenkins  was  genuine ;  and  he  himself  had 
lost  a  fortune. 

"  I  don't  want  to  gammon  a  decent  fellow  like 
Crampy,  but  I  can't  afford  to  lose  a  thousand 
pounds,"  George  muttered,  after  the  driver  had  de- 
parted with  the  bank-notes.  "  I'll  walk  over  to  Brim- 
mleton  and  send  him  a  telegram.  If  it  goes  from 
here  Mrs.  Cann  will  talk  all  over  the  village.  And 
on  the  way  back  I'll  look  in  at  Black  Anchor,  and 
try  to  find  out  what  young  Sidney  is  up  to." 

Before  starting  he  told  Nellie  of  his  intentions, 
which  were  still  honourable ;  but  the  young  lady  was 
indifferent  to  the  point  of  malice. 

"  They  are  nothing  to  me,  and  the  sooner  they 


A  DRAKE  BY  GEORGE ! 

clear  out  of  the  place  the  better,"  she  said  firmly. 

"  I'm  going  to  give  the  lad  a  little  friendly  ad- 
vice. The  people  are  complaining  that  he's  making 
Highfield  more  like  London  every  day ;  and  naturally 
they  are  getting  angry  about  it,"  said  George. 

"  Oh,  don't  talk  to  me  about  it,"  cried  Nellie. 

*'  Shall  I  talk  to  you  when  I  come  back?  " 

"  That  will  depend  upon  what  you  have  to 
say." 

"  It  can't  possibly  be  good  news,"  said  George 
cheerfully.  "  I  knew  Sidney  was  a  bad  egg  the 
first  time  I  saw  him.  He  never  took  his  eyes  off 
my  boots,  and  that's  a  sure  sign  of  a  nasty  char- 
acter." 

So  George  walked  to  Brimmleton,  where  he  was  a 
foreigner,  and  despatched  the  telegram  to  Crampy, 
accepting  his  offer  for  the  vases  and  pressing  for  a 
reply  immediately,  as  he  was  very  much  afraid 
Jenkins  might  leak  a  little  upon  his  return  to  Lon- 
don. Then  he  turned  aside  to  the  lonely  farm,  where 
half-savage  children  no  longer  rolled  in  the  mud, 
noting  with  approval  the  effect  of  hard  labour  in 
the  shape  of  reclaimed  land  and  well-drained  fields. 
The  Brocks,  if  vicious,  were  at  least  not  idle;  and 
George  was  always  well  pleased  at  discovering  signs 
of  human  industry  which  convinced  him  that  the 
race  was  by  no  means  decadent. 

Nearing  the  house  he  walked  warily;  and  here  a 


A  SPLENDID  BARGAIN  215 

shocking  spectacle  was  presented.  He  saw  a  young 
girl  —  the  same  infamous  young  person  —  most 
daintily  attired,  seated  upon  a  boulder  near  the 
door,  wearing  over  her  pretty  frock  a  deplorable  type 
of  beribboned  and  belaced  apron,  perusing  a  volume 
with  a  lurid  binding  which  assuredly  was  teaching 
her  terrible  things.  And  he  saw  the  old  man  —  the 
grandfather  —  approach  with  a  mattock  on  his  shoul- 
der ;  and  he  pulled  her  hair ;  while  she  shouted  at  him 
—  some  nameless  jest,  doubtless,  but  happily  George 
could  not  hear  the  words. 

Presently  Sidney  appeared  —  for  it  was  nearly 
dinner-time  —  and  the  worst  happened.  The  aban- 
doned young  creature  jumped  up  and  ran  towards 
him,  with  an  expression,  described  mentally  by 
George  as  one  of  ready-made  affection,  upon  her 
pretty  face;  and,  as  they  walked  into  the  house, 
the  wicked  young  man  passed  his  arm  around  the 
waist  of  the  shameless  damsel. 

The  watcher  groaned  in  spirit,  although  he  could 
not  altogether  escape  from  the  idea  that  the  ungodly 
were  not  necessarily  to  be  pitied  in  this  world.  Then 
he  walked  to  the  house  and  knocked  at  the  door. 
The  scuffling  sound  of  young  women  in  flight  caused 
him  to  shake  his  head  again. 

"  So  'tis  you,  Mr.  Drake !  You'm  quite  a 
stranger,"  exclaimed  Sidney  readily  enough,  though 
in  George's  opinion  his  face  wore  a  hunted  look. 


216  A  DRAKE  BY  GEORGE ! 

"  I'd  like  to  have  a  few  words  with  you,"  he  re- 
plied. 

"  Right,"  said  Sidney,  looking  back  into  the  house 
to  call,  "  Tell  Dolly  not  to  hurry  wi'  the  dinner, 
grandfather." 

"  Dolly !  "  groaned  George,  somewhat  enviously. 
He  had  clung  to  the  hope  that  the  girl's  name  might 
turn  out  to  be  Jane. 

"  You  know,  Sidney,  I  don't  bear  you  any  ill- 
feeling,"  he  began,  when  they  stood  a  few  paces  from 
the  house,  although  his  eyes  were  stricken  with  hor- 
ror at  discovering  the  young  woman  had  been  read- 
ing a  book  printed  in  French.  "  But  there's  some 
very  loud  talk  up  in  Highfield  about  you  and  your 
goings  on  with  the  ladies." 

"  We  have  nought  to  do  wi'  Highfield  volk,  and  we 
don't  care  that  much  vor  their  talk,"  replied  Sidney, 
snapping  his  fingers. 

"  They  are  threatening  to  mob  you,"  George  whis- 
pered. 

"Not  they,"  laughed  Sidney.  "They  ain't  got 
it  in  'em,  and  if  a  crowd  did  come  down  along  me 
and  grandfather  would  settle  the  lot." 

"  It's  pretty  bad  to  have  young  women  here  — 
from  France  too  —  one  after  the  other.  You  can't 
blame  the  people  for  being  a  bit  upset." 

"  If  that's  all  you've  got  to  say,  Mr.  Drake,  I'll 


A  SPLENDID  BARGAIN  217 

thank  ye  kindly,  and  tell  ye  I  don't  want  to  hear  no 
more  of  it.  Dolly  is  staying  vor  a  week  or  two, 
and  when  she  goes  I'll  get  another,"  said  the  young 
outcast  fiercely. 

"  I  thought  I'd  just  look  in  and  warn  you  as  I  was 
passing,"  said  George.  "  You  know,  Sidney,  I  don't 
blame  you,  and  I  think  you're  quite  right  not  to  give 
way  to  them.  If  I  can  help  you  in  any  way  I  shall 
be  only  too  glad.  These  ignorant  people  don't  un- 
derstand men  of  the  world  like  you  and  me." 

"  I  reckon,"  said  Sidney,  with  the  deplorable  grin 
of  a  completely  dissipated  soul. 

"  I  mustn't  keep  you  from  your  dinner,  Sidney  — 
and  from  the  ladies.  Give  my  best  wishes  to  your 
grandfather,  and  my  respects  to  Miss  Dolly.  I  do 
hope  she  is  enjoying  her  visit,"  said  the  double-faced 
George.  Then  he  ambled  off,  trying  to  smile  and 
frown  with  the  same  face,  entirely  satisfied  that 
Sidney  would  never  again  be  permitted  to  approach 
within  speaking  distance  of  Miss  Blisland. 

He  was  unable  to  report  the  result  of  this  visit, 
beyond  mentioning  he  had  discovered  things  too  ter- 
rible for  words ;  and,  although  Nellie  did  appear 
for  one  moment  inclined  to  listen,  George  could  do 
nothing  except  place  a  hand  across  his  eyes  and 
declare  he  could  not  face  her  after  the  scenes  of 
sheer  depravity  he  had  been  compelled  to  witness  at 


218  A  DRAKE  BY  GEORGE ! 

Black  Anchor.  Nellie  was  well  aware  George  would 
exaggerate  if  he  could ;  but  this  did  really  appear  to 
be  a  case  where  exaggeration  was  impossible. 

"  You  do  get  a  lot  of  these  nasty  things,  Mr. 
George,"  remarked  Kezia,  as  she  approached  with 
a  telegram  which  suggested  to  her  nothing  except 
murder  and  sudden  death. 

"  In  this  case  I  shall  attend  the  funeral,"  said 
George  cheerfully,  when  he  discovered  the  deluded 
Crampy  would  meet  him  at  the  station  upon  the  fol- 
lowing day. 

"Who's  gone  now?"  asked  Kezia. 

"  Next  week  I  am  going  into  business,"  explained 
George  with  suitable  emotion.  "  This  telegram  is 
from  a  friend  who  wants  to  go  into  partnership  with 
me." 

"  I  hope  he  ain't  coming  here  then,"  said  Kezia, 
who  was  beginning  to  resent  the  visits  of  strange 
gentlemen,  because  they  walked  upon  her  carpets 
and  sat  upon  her  chairs.  "  What  be  you  going  to 
sell,  Mr.  George  ?  "  she  asked  with  much  interest. 

"  China,"  he  replied. 

"  I  do  hope  and  pray  as  how  you  may  succeed," 
gasped  Kezia ;  and  off  she  went  to  inform  Bessie  that 
Mr.  George  was  about  to  start  a  cloam  shop.  Bes- 
sie quite  believed  it,  as  Mr.  George  had  always  been 
so  fond  of  handling  cups  and  saucers. 

Miss  Yard  also  was  fond  of  tea-drinking,  but  she 


A  SPLENDID  BARGAIN  219 

had  no  tenderness  for  china,  and  would  generally 
release  her  cup  in  a  vacuum,  instead  of  placing  it 
fairly  upon  the  table ;  and  express  a  vast  amount  of 
amusement  at  the  ridiculous  laws  of  nature  when  the 
cup  exploded  upon  the  carpet.  She  was  particularly 
robust  that  afternoon  and  insisted  upon  pouring  out 
tea  herself.  When  the  fragments,  which  filled  two 
small  baskets,  had  been  removed,  the  steaming  car- 
pet mopped,  and  dryness  restored,  George  seated 
himself  beside  the  old  lady,  produced  a  sheet  of  fools- 
cap covered  with  writing,  and  said  in  his  most  sil- 
very voice: 

"  Circumstances,  my  dear  aunt,  will  compel  me  to 
leave  you  during  the  course  of  the  next  few  days: 
but  I  cannot  go  until  I  have  the  satisfaction  of  know- 
ing you  have  made  a  will  in  our  dear  Nellie's  fa- 
vour." 

"  Good  heavens  —  in  my  presence,  too !  "  gasped 
the  young  lady. 

"  I  need  not  remind  you  of  the  goodness,  the  mod- 
esty, the  unselfishness  of  our  Nellie,"  he  continued. 
"  She  would  serve  you  for  nothing,  but  nevertheless 
it  is  your  duty  to  leave  her  all  you  can." 

"  I  can't  stay  and  listen  to  this,"  cried  the  dis- 
tressed beneficiary. 

"  Don't  interfere.  She  has  always  meant  to  do 
it,  but  never  will  unless  we  jog  her  memory,"  George 
whispered. 


220  A  DRAKE  BY  GEORGE! 

"  I'll  have  nothing  to  do  with  it,"  exclaimed  Nellie ; 
and  out  she  went  with  a  fine  colour. 

"  Is  this  something  to  do  with  that  nasty  robbery 
they  call  income-tax?  "  asked  Miss  Yard. 

"  This  is  your  last  will  and  testament,"  replied 
George  solemnly.  "  I  know  you  mean  to  leave  every- 
thing to  Nellie,  but  you  can't  do  that  unless  you 
sign  a  will.  You  must  die  soon,  you  know ;  and,  if 
it  was  to  happen  suddenly,  Nellie  would  get  noth- 
ing." 

"I  did  write  out  a  paper,  but  somebody  has  hid- 
den it  away  somewhere,"  said  the  old  lady. 

"  Pieces  of  paper  are  very  little  good,"  said 
George.  "  This  is  a  properly  drawn  up  will.  When 
you  have  signed  it  I  can  go  away  quite  happy,  and  I 
shall  know  dear  Nellie  will  be  provided  for." 

"  Will  she  have  the  house,  and  the  furniture,  and 
all  my  money  ?  "  asked  Miss  Yard  eagerly. 

"  Percy  gets  your  money,  but  Nellie  will  have  all 
that  you  may  leave  in  the  bank,  any  investments  you 
may  make,  and  the  proportion  of  income  up  to  the 
time  of  your  death,"  said  George  learnedly. 

"  Must  I  write  my  name  somewhere?  " 

"Yes,  and  two  witnesses  are  required;  but  Nellie 
can't  be  one,"  said  George,  going  to  the  window  and 
gazing  along  the  street  for  some  honest  person  who 
could  also  write. 

Presently    the    Wallower    in    Wealth    appeared, 


A  SPLENDID  BARGAIN  221 

prospecting  the  gutter  for  any  signs  of  gold-dust. 

"  I  know  he  can  write,  for  he  signed  a  petition  to 
uncle  in  favour  of  more  frequent  offertories  in  aid  of 
the  poor  and  needy,"  George  muttered.  Then  he 
caught  up  the  will,  lest  Miss  Yard  should  scribble 
her  name  all  over  it  during  his  absence,  ran  out  into 
the  street,  and  invited  the  scribe  to  step  inside  and 
witness  Miss  Yard's  signature. 

"  I'll  do  it  on  one  condition,"  said  the  Wallower  in 
Wealth. 

"What's  that?"  said  George. 

"  You  sell  me  the  musical-box.  I'll  give  ye  ten 
shillings  vor  it." 

"  That  musical-box  is  worth  fifty  pounds,"  said 
George.  "  But  I  can't  sell  it." 

"Ain't  it  yours?" 

"  It  has  been  out  of  order  since  my  uncle  died." 

"  You  get  it  put  right,  and  let  me  have  it  vor 
fifteen  shillings,  and  I'll  sign." 

"  Miss  Yard  wants  you  to  witness  her  signature. 
You  won't  be  doing  anything  for  me." 

"  You'm  asking  me." 

"  Miss  Yard  isn't  feeling  very  well  to-day,  and 
sKe's  in  a  hurry  to  get  her  affairs  settled." 

"  I  b'ain't  preventing  her,"  said  the  Wallower  in 
Wealth. 

"  She  can't  do  it  without  witnesses." 

"  I  might  spare  a  pound  vor  the  musical-box." 


A  DRAKE  BY  GEORGE! 

"  You  couldn't  get  it  repaired.  That  musical-box 
is  a  lost  art." 

"  If  I  take  it  wi'  all  its  faults,  and  Miss  Yard  gives 
me  five  shillings  vor  my  time  and  labour,  will  ye  sell 
me  the  box  vor  one  pound  two  and  sixpence?  " 

"  I  can't  stay  here  talking.  If  you  won't  come  I 
must  get  somebody  else,"  said  George  impatiently. 

"  Other  folk  would  want  to  be  paid  the  same  as 
me,"  said  the  Wallower  in  Wealth. 

"  Then  I  shall  go  and  ask  the  vicar." 

This  was  a  fatal  blow,  and  the  bargainer  climbed 
down  at  once. 

"  I'll  stand  witness  vor  half  a  crown  and  first  re- 
fusal of  the  musical-box,"  he  promised. 

Miss  Yard  was  unusually  silent  after  signing  her 
will,  and  paying  a  fee  to  both  her  witnesses.  She 
lay  back  in  her  chair  with  dreamy  old  eyes  which 
looked  as  if  they  were  recalling  many  scenes.  While 
George  carried  the  precious  document  upstairs  to 
Nellie. 

"  Put  it  away  and  keep  it  safe  until  she  dies,"  he 
said. 

"  I  want  to  say  the  right  thing,"  she  murmured. 
"  You  ought  not  to  have  made  her  sign,  although 
she  often  says  it  is  her  intention  to  leave  me  some- 
thing." 

"  You  won't  forget  that  I  might  have  acted  in  a 
most  scandalous  fashion,"  George  hinted. 


A  SPLENDID  BARGAIN  223 

"  Yes,  I  know !  "  she  said  hurriedly.  "  You  could 
have  put  your  name  in  place  of  mine,  and  she  would 
have  signed  just  as  willingly.  But  it's  a  horrible 
business." 

"  All  business  is  horrible.  That  is  why  we  hire 
people  to  do  it  for  us.  I  was  thinking  of  myself  as 
well,"  said  George  heartily.  "  We  are  getting  along 
very  nicely,  Nellie  —  no  just  cause  or  impediment, 
you  know!  This  should  mean  one  of  those  nice  little 
sums  of  good  money  known  as  capital,"  he  whispered, 
rubbing  his  hands. 

"  I  must  go  to  Miss  Sophy,"  said  Nellie ;  and  she 
moved  towards  the  stairs  like  one  in  trouble. 

The  next  day  George  carried  his  vases  tenderly 
to  the  station  where,  at  the  appointed  time,  Crampy 
arrived,  and  at  once  inquired: 

"Has  Jenkins  been  down?" 

"  He  came,"  replied  George,  prepared  for  some 
such  question,  "  but  we  couldn't  do  business." 

"All  cackle,  I  suppose?  That's  his  way.  He'll 
come  into  my  place  to  bargain  for  a  piece  of  Sevres ; 
swear  he  must  have  it,  talk  me  dizzy ;  then  say  he 
must  cross  the  Atlantic  and  think  about  it." 

"  He  seemed  very  anxious  to  buy  the  vases,  but  he 
couldn't  quite  make  up  his  mind.  I  didn't  exactly 
trust  the  fellow,"  said  George.  Then  he  went  on  to 
describe  the  millionaire's  adventures  with  aeroplane 
and  motor-car  between  London  and  Highfield. 


A  DRAKE  BY  GEORGE! 

"  That  was  just  his  ornamental  way  of  telling  you 
he's  a  hustler.  He  travelled  by  railway,  and  third- 
class  all  the  way.  Jenkins  is  an  awful  liar ;  but  he's 
honest.  I  want  to  catch  the  up-train,  due  in  about 
twenty  minutes,  so  we  had  better  get  to  business. 
If  you  are  ready  to  hand  over  the  pieces,  I  am  pre- 
pared to  give  you  my  cheque  for  a  thousand  marked 
accepted  by  the  bank." 

"  Jenkins  said  they  were  really  worth  more  than 
that." 

"  Though  he  wouldn't  give  it,"  laughed  Crampy. 
"  I'll  just  take  another  look  at  'em  to  make  sure." 

"  It  doesn't  matter,"  George  protested. 

However,  Crampy  insisted  in  a  courteous  fashion: 
so  they  walked  to  the  far  end  of  the  platform,  where 
George  unpacked  one  of  the  vases,  and  the  dealer, 
having  put  on  his  glasses,  examined  it  shrewdly  until 
the  owner  began  to  suffer  from  the  silence. 

"  Do  you  know,  Mr.  Drake,  I'm  not  sure  —  upon 
my  soul  I  can't  say  for  certain  whether  the  things 
are  genuine  or  not." 

"  Don't  tell  me  they  are  forgeries,"  said  George 
weakly. 

"  They  are  marvellously  well  done.  Still,  I've  got 
a  horrible  idea  in  my  head  there  is  something  wrong 
with  them." 

"Jenkins  told  you?"  cried  George  involuntarily. 

"  So  he  said  they  were  fakes  !  " 


A  SPLENDID  BARGAIN  225 

"  He  didn't  go  as  far  as  that,  but  he  thought  there 
might  be  some  doubt  about  them,"  George  admitted. 

"  It  looks  bad  —  Jenkins  is  an  uncommon  smart 
amateur.  Still,  Mr.  Drake,  I'm  a  man  of  my  word, 
and  I'm  going  to  make  you  an  extremely  liberal  offer. 
I'll  buy  the  vases  for  the  price  agreed  upon.  If 
they  should  turn  out  to  be  genuine,  I  can  make  a 
fair  profit.  If  they  must  be  condemned  as  forgeries, 
I  may  discover  somebody  with  plenty  of  money  but 
not  enough  brains  to  put  unpleasant  questions.  Or, 
if  you  prefer  it,  I  will  sell  the  vases  for  you  on  com- 
mission. But,  in  that  case,  you  stand  to  lose.  It's 
a  gamble  so  far  as  I'm  concerned." 

"  That's  a  luxury  I  can't  afford,"  George  mut- 
tered. 

"  Exactly !  Here's  my  cheque !  I'm  not  a  philan- 
thropist ;  I'm  willing  to  do  any  man  a  good  turn,  but 
I'm  far  more  anxious  to  do  a  bit  of  good  for  my- 
self. I  may  lose,  but  it's  just  as  likely  I  shall  clear 
a  profit.  These  vases  can  be  passed  off,  though  you 
couldn't  do  it  —  but,  mind  you,  I  don't  say  even  now 
they  are  not  genuine." 

With  a  vast  sense  of  relief  George  accepted  the 
cheque,  and  gave  up  possession  of  the  Chinese  vases. 


H 


CHAPTER  XIII 

WASPS    AND    OTHER    WORRIES 

v  FAVE  yOU  any  j(jea  what  we  are  doing 
here?  "  Miss  Yard  inquired  one  morn- 
ing, while  Nellie  was  assisting  her  to 
dress. 

"  We  came  to  live  with  your  sister,"  replied  the 
girl. 

"  I  suppose  there's  some  truth  in  that.  But 
what's  the  good  of  staying  now  Maria  has  gone  to 
the  seaside?  I  want  to  go  home,  and  see  my  friends 
again,"  declared  Miss  Yard,  declining  the  next  gar- 
ment until  she  should  receive  a  satisfactory  answer. 

"  This  is  your  home,"  said  Nellie. 

"  Then  why  don't  we  have  tea-parties,  and  why 
don't  we  meet  every  week  to  knit  chest-protectors  for 
the  people  who  eat  one  another  ?  " 

"  Because  we  no  longer  live  in  a  town  full  of  old 
ladies  with  nothing  to  do." 

"  There  was  an  old  clergyman  who  used  to  make 
me  shiver  with  his  dreadful  stories,"  added  Miss 
Yard  eagerly. 

"  Not  exactly.     While  the  rest  of  you  knitted,  one 
226 


WASPS  AND  OTHER  WORRIES       227 

of  the  ladies  used  to  read  aloud  from  a  book,  written 
by  a  missionary  who  had  spent  thirty  years  upon  an 
island  in  the  Pacific ;  and  he  did  mention  that,  when 
he  first  went  there,  the  people  were  not  vegetarians." 

"  And  we  sent  him  a  lot  of  mufflers  and  mittens," 
cried  Miss  Yard. 

"  Yes,  and  he  wrote  back  to  say  wool  was  much 
too  warm  for  people  who  wore  nothing  at  all." 

"  That's  what  made  me  shiver,"  said  Miss  Yard 
triumphantly.  "  It  wasn't  so  much  what  they  ate, 
as  their  walking  about  without  clothes.  They  used 
to  go  to  church  with  nothing  on.  It  must  have  been 
dreadful  for  the  poor  clergyman.  No  wonder  his 
health  broke  down.  We  must  go  back,"  said  Miss 
Yard  decidedly.  "  I  can't  think  what  made  me  so 
silly  as  to  come  here.  Do  you  remember  the  lady 
who  lived  in  a  dandelion?  " 

"  Now  you  really  have  puzzled  me,"  laughed  Nel- 
lie. 

"  A  little  yellow  dandelion  on  a  hill.  There  were 
no  stairs  to  go  up,  but  I  didn't  like  it  much  in  sum- 
mer." 

"  I've  got  it !  You  mean  the  bungalow  that  be- 
longed to  Miss  Winter.  You  didn't  like  her." 

"  She  used  to  kiss  the  clergy,"  said  Miss  Yard 
sadly. 

"  My  dear  Miss  Sophy  you  must  not  libel  people. 
She  told  you  once  the  only  men  she  ever  had  kissed 


228  A  DRAKE  BY  GEORGE! 

were  clergymen ;  one  was  her  father,  and  the  other 
her  uncle.  What  makes  you  remember  all  this  ?  " 

"  Percy  has  written  to  me,  and  says  he's  going  to 
be  a  missionary." 

"  Let  me  see  the  letter." 

"  It's  on  my  table.  I'm  sure  Percy  will  make  a 
good  missionary,  for  when  he  wants  money,  he's  not 
ashamed  to  ask  for  it." 

"  This  is  an  appeal  from  the  Society  for  Supplying 
Paper-patterns  of  the  Latest  Fashions  to  the  Ladies 
of  the  Solomon  Islands." 

"  That's  where  Percy  is  going.  I  do  hope  they 
will  dress  themselves  properly  for  his  sake." 

"  Oh,  here  it  is ! "  cried  Nellie,  discovering  a  letter 
on  the  carpet.  "  So  Mr.  Taverner  is  coming  here 
next  week." 

"  And  he's  going  to  bring  me  some  tomatoes." 

"  He's  going  to  bring  his  fiancee,"  said  Nellie. 

"  Now  I've  quite  forgotten  what  that  is." 

"  The  young  lady  he's  going  to  marry." 

"  That's  what  I  mean.  I  get  so  confused  between 
tomatoes  and  mortgages." 

"  He  has  just  come  into  some  money  most  un- 
expectedly," Nellie  read.  "  He  arrived  at  the  con- 
clusion long  ago  that  the  climate  of  England  is  quite 
unsuitable  for  the  cultivation  of  tomatoes ;  and  as  he 
is  anxious  to  exploit  the  capabilities  of  his  new  va- 
riety, he  is  going  to  settle,  after  his  marriage,  in 


WASPS  AND  OTHER  WORRIES 

Tasmania,  which  he  believes  is  an  island  with  a  future. 
He  is  coming  to  Highfield  to  bid  his  dear  good  aunt 
a  long  farewell.  Whatever  gave  you  the  idea  he 
was  going  to  be  a  missionary?  " 

"  Doesn't  he  say  so?  "  asked  Miss  Yard. 

"  No,  he  is  going  to  Tasmania  to  grow  tomatoes." 

"  I  suppose  I  used  to  know  something  about  Tas- 
mania ;  but  then  I  used  to  be  very  good  at  acrostics, 
and  I  can't  do  them  now." 

"  It's  an  island  near  Australia.  But  not  every 
one  who  goes  to  an  island  in  the  Pacific  intends  to 
be  a  missionary,"  said  Nellie,  adding  to  herself, 
"  This  will  be  delightful  news  for  George." 

That  gentleman  was  depressed,  for  he  had  just  re- 
ceived an  anonymous  communication  threatening  him 
with  a  fearful  end  upon  the  day  that  the  first  boulder 
of  the  new  railway  was  blasted.  Also  Crampy  had 
sent  him  a  perplexing  note,  mentioning  that  some  ex- 
perts believed  the  vases  were  genuine,  while  others 
declared  them  to  be  forgeries ;  but,  in  any  case,  he  had 
succeeded  already  in  disposing  of  them. 

When  George  had  read  Percy's  letter,  which  Miss 
Yard  passed  across  the  breakfast-table,  with  the 
remark  that  she  herself  would  like  to  live  "  in  the 
Pacific,"  if  he  could  find  her  an  island  where  the 
police  insisted  upon  the  wearing  of  apparel  during 
divine  service,  he  became  highly  suspicious,  and  sug- 
gested to  Nellie  in  an  undertone  that  Percy  had  se- 


230  A  DRAKE  BY  GEORGE! 

lected  the  Antipodes  with  a  view  to  removing  him- 
self as  far  as  possible  from  the  Central  Criminal 
Court. 

"  He's  going  to  grow  Tasmanias  in  Tomato,"  an- 
nounced Miss  Yard. 

"  He  means  to  grow  giant  tomanias  —  I  mean 
tomatoes,  in  —  oh,  bother !  "  laughed  Nellie.  "  Miss 
Sophy  has  muddled  me.  Why  shouldn't  Mr.  Ta- 
verner  grow  tomatoes  in  Tasmania?" 

"  What  about  this  money  ?  Would  anybody  leave 
money  to  Percy  unless  they  had  to?"  cried  George. 

"  It  may  have  been  left  to  his  young  lady,"  sug- 
gested Nellie. 

"  He  has  robbed  some  one,"  said  George  bitterly, 
"  and  now  he's  running  off  the  earth  to  hide  the 
swag." 

"  If  I  wanted  to  say  something  nasty  about  Mr. 
Taverner,"  said  Nellie,  "  I  might  suggest  he  had  be- 
come engaged  to  Miss  Lee  because  this  money  had 
been  left  to  her." 

"  I  should  be  certain  of  it,  if  he  wasn't  clearing  out 
of  the  country,"  replied  George. 

"Isn't  this  honey?"  complained  Miss  Yard. 
"What  makes  it  taste  so  bitter?  " 

"  Heavens,  don't  swallow  them !  Have  they  stung 
you  ? "  cried  Nellie,  perceiving  suddenly  that  the 
good  lady  was  spreading  her  buttered  toast  with  a 
mixture  of  crushed  wasps  and  honey. 


WASPS  AND  OTHER  WORRIES       231 

"  They  are  not  at  all  nice.  Did  the  doctor  order 
me  to  have  them?  " 

"  They  are  wasps,  Aunt,"  said  George  bluntly. 

"  Are  they  the  things  that  turn  into  butterflies  ?  " 
gasped  Miss  Yard,  rising  from  her  chair  and  show- 
ing signs  of  distress. 

"  Don't  worry,  dear.  They  are  quite  harmless. 
Come  and  lie  down,  and  I'll  bring  you  something  to 
wash  out  your  mouth,"  said  Nellie;  and  she  carried 
off  the  old  lady.  While  George,  always  ready  to 
play  emergency-man,  rushed  into  the  kitchen,  ac- 
quainted Kezia  with  what  had  happened  owing  to  her 
gross  carelessness  in  putting  away  the  honey-pot  with 
the  lid  off,  and  ordered  her  to  despatch  a  telegram 
to  the  doctor.  Then  he  went  into  the  parlour  and 
observed  consolingly: 

"  People  can  live  a  long  time  with  bullets  inside 
them.  Wasps  can't  be  worse,  especially  as  they 
must  be  digestible." 

"  I  am  afraid  of  the  stinging  parts,"  said  Nellie. 

"  Perhaps  they  are  worn  off,"  he  replied. 

Miss  Yard  lay  upon  the  sofa  breathing  peacefully, 
thankful  she  had  made  her  will,  but  looking  wonder- 
fully healthy.  She  complained,  however,  of  drowsi- 
ness, whereupon  Bessie,  who  had  rushed  across  the 
road  at  the  first  alarm,  and  was  then  standing  in 
the  parlour  armed  with  the  brandy  bottle  and  blue- 
bag,  exclaimed  incautiously,  "  That  shows  they'm 


A  DRAKE  BY  GEORGE! 

stinging  her.  Robert  ses  his  father  wur  bit  by  a 
viper,  and  he  drank  a  bottle  of  brandy  and  lay  un- 
conscious vor  twenty-four  hours." 

"  Was  it  really  a  viper  ?  "  groaned  the  sufferer. 

"  I  don't  think  they  will  do  her  any  harm,"  said 
George.  "  In  some  countries  the  people  live  on  frogs 
and  slugs." 

"  And  St.  John  the  Baptist  always  had  grass- 
hoppers with  his  honey,"  added  Bessie  reverently. 

"  And  Germans  eat  worms,  and  thrive  on  'em," 
George  concluded. 

Kezia  was  crying  in  the  hall,  declaring  that  the 
jury  would  bring  it  in  manslaughter.  Being  called 
upon  by  Bessie  to  make  some  valedictory  remark  to 
the  poor  lady,  she  approached,  and  blubbered 
out: 

"  Mrs.  Cann  ses,  miss,  you  ain't  to  worry.  She 
can't  hardly  open  her  mouth  in  the  post-office  without 
swallowing  something;  and  one  evening,  miss,  taking 
her  supper  in  the  dark,  she  ate  a  beetle ;  and  there's 
more  good  food  about  than  us  knows  of,  she  ses ;  and 
it  'twas  all  cooked,  miss,  and  if  it  warn't  vor  the  look 
of  such  things,  we  might  live  a  lot  more  cheaply  than 
we  do;  vor  she  ses,  miss,  'tis  horrible  to  think  what 
ducks  eat,  but  there's  nothing  tastier  than  a  duckling, 
'cept  it  be  a  nice  bit  of  young  pork;  and  she  ses, 
miss,  she  saw  a  pig  of  hers  eat  a  viper  — " 

"  There's  nothing  here  about  internal  wasp-stings," 


WASPS  AND  OTHER  WORRIES       233 

broke  in  Nellie,  who  had  been  consulting  a  book  of 
household  remedies. 

"  I  can't  think  how  it  got  into  the  house,"  Miss 
Yard  was  moaning,  with  her  eyes  fixed  upon  vacancy. 
"  It  seems  wonderful  that  it  should  have  run  down 
my  throat  when  I  wasn't  looking." 

"  Are  you  in  any  pain,  dear  ?  "  asked  Nellie. 

"  No,"  replied  Miss  Yard  in  a  disappointed  voice. 

"  They'm  always  like  that,"  wept  Kezia.  "  My 
poor  missus  was  wonderful  well  the  morning  she  wur 
took." 

"  I'm  going  away  too,"  said  the  invalid.  "  Will 
you  find  me  a  train,  George?  " 

"  Where  to  ?  "  asked  the  obliging  nephew. 

"  The  place  where  Nellie  and  I  came  from.  I  don't 
know  what  they  used  to  call  it." 

"  We'll  go  directly  you  are  well,"  Nellie  promised. 

George  brought  a  railway  time-table,  a  pair  of 
compasses,  and  a  map  of  the  British  Isles ;  and  de- 
livered a  lecture  which  delighted  the  old  lady  so 
much  that  she  forgot  her  pangs,  and  was  greatly 
astonished  when  the  doctor  bustled  into  the  room 
thankful  to  know  he  was  not  too  late. 

"  I  suppose  you  want  a  subscription,"  said  Miss 
Yard. 

"  I  had  a  telegram  saying  you  were  seriously  ill, 
but  I  have  never  seen  you  looking  better,"  replied 
the  doctor. 


234.  A  DRAKE  BY  GEORGE! 

"  Yes,  I  am  wonderfully  well,  thank  you.  I  hope 
you're  the  same,"  said  the  merry  patient. 

"  Oh,  doctor ! "  cried  Nellie,  entering  the  apart- 
ment. "  Miss  Yard  was  eating  her  breakfast  — " 

"  And  I  swallowed  a  snake !  Do  you  know  I  had 
forgotten  all  about  it ! "  cried  the  old  lady. 

Nellie  revised  this  version,  and  the  doctor  was 
professionally  compelled  to  act  the  pessimist.  He 
advised  a  little  walk  in  the  garden,  to  complete  di- 
gestion of  the  wasps,  recommended  a  stimulant,  pre- 
scribed a  tonic,  and  promised  to  call  every  day  until 
the  patient  should  be  in  a  fair  way  to  recovery. 

Then  he  departed,  and  Miss  Yard  immediately 
suffered  a  relapse  brought  on  entirely  by  the  visit. 
She  was  stricken  with  some  mortal  disease,  and  they 
were  hiding  the  truth  from  her.  She  consented  to 
walk  round  the  garden,  as  it  would  be  for  the  last 
time;  then,  having  insisted  upon  being  put  to  bed, 
she  implored  Nellie  to  tell  her  the  worst ;  and,  when 
the  girl  declared  it  was  nothing  but  a  little  indiges- 
tion, the  old  lady  lost  her  temper,  and  said  it  was 
very  unjust  she  should  have  to  die  of  a  disease  that 
was  not  serious. 

"  There's  nothing  whatever  the  matter,"  said 
Nellie. 

"Then  what's  all  this  fuss  about?"  asked  Miss 
Yard. 

"  You  are  making  the  fuss." 


WASPS  AND  OTHER  WORRIES       235 

"  I  didn't  send  for  the  doctor.  And  he's  coming 
again  to-morrow.  It's  not  measles,  and  it's  not 
whooping-cough,  but  I  believe  it's  poison.  Bessie 
put  poison  into  the  teapot." 

"  Why  Bessie?  " 

"  I  knew  she  would  do  something  dreadful  if  she 
didn't  stop  growing.  And  Robert  is  so  short.  It 
must  all  mean  something.  He  held  the  teapot  while 
Bessie  put  in  the  poison.  Nasty  bitter  stuff  it  was 
too !  I  suppose  I  must  forgive  them,  though  I  don't 
like  doing  it.  Where  is  George?  " 

"  He  is  packing.     He's  going  away  to-morrow." 

"  But  he  must  stay  for  the  funeral !  " 

"  There's  not  going  to  be  a  funeral.  You  know 
Mr.  George  must  leave  us ;  he  has  told  you  so  lots 
of  times." 

"  Tell  him  to  come  here.  I  must  give  him  a  pres- 
ent. Look  in  the  cupboard  and  find  me  something 
to  give  George.  And  pack  up  all  my  clothes,  for  I 
shan't  want  them  again.  Send  them  to  that  Bishop 
who  wrote  and  said  he  hadn't  got  any." 

"  I  don't  think,  really,  your  clothes  are  suitable 
for  the  ladies  of  the  Lonesome  Islands,"  said  Nellie. 

"  You  must  keep  the  best  things.  I  want  you  to 
have  my  black  silk  dress  and  the  coat  trimmed  with 
jet  ornaments.  They  will  come  in  nicely  for  your 
wedding.  Perhaps  George  would  like  a  brooch.  Tell 
Bessie  and  Robert  to  come  here  at  five  o'clock  to  be 


A  DRAKE  BY  GEORGE! 

forgiven  —  but  I  won't  promise.  You  must  write 
to  Percy,  and  tell  him  I  was  so  sorry  not  to  be  able 
to  say  good-bye,  but  the  end  came  suddenly,  though 
I  was  quite  prepared  for  it.  Why  aren't  you  pack- 
ing my  clothes  —  or  did  you  say  George  was  doing 
it?"  " 

"  I'll  call  him.  And  if  you  worry  me  much  more 
I  shall  swear,"  said  Nellie. 

George  came  and  mourned  over  his  aunt  because 
the  time  of  separation  was  at  hand.  Miss  Yard 
agreed,  but  almost  forgot  her  own  impending  depart- 
ure when  George  explained  he  was  referring  to  him- 
self. 

"  Oh,  but  you  are  not  going  to  die  yet.  I'm 
sure  that  isn't  necessary.  Besides,  you  are  looking 
so  well,"  she  said  earnestly. 

"  He  is  not  looking  a  bit  better  than  you  are," 
cried  Nellie. 

"I  am  about  to  start  on  a  long  journey,  Aunt," 
said  George  piteously. 

"  Oh,  yes !  I  remember  now  about  the  island  in 
the  Pacific  where  the  tomatoes  grow." 

"  I  have  been  working  rather  too  much  lately,  and 
need  a  rest,"  he  explained ;  "  but  directly  you  want 
me  back  you  have  only  to  send  an  invitation." 

"  I  shall  be  left  all  alone  —  oh,  but  I  forgot,"  said 
Miss  Yard,  interrupting  herself  in  a  shocked  voice. 
"  You  must  stay,  George,  to  do  me  a  great  favour. 


WASPS  AND  OTHER  WORRIES       237 

I  want  you  to  bury  me  in  Westminster  Abbey  in  the 
next  grave  to  Queen  Elizabeth." 

"  My  dear  Miss  Sophy !  "  exclaimed  Nellie. 

"  Don't  listen  to  that  child.  She  is  in  a  nasty 
cross  mood  —  and  somebody  has  been  teaching  her 
to  swear.  I  took  a  fancy  to  Westminster  Abbey 
when  I  was  quite  young,  and,  even  if  it  is  rather  ex- 
pensive, I  should  like  to  treat  myself  to  a  grave 
there." 

"  I'll  see  to  it,"  George  promised. 

"  You  shouldn't  say  such  a  wicked  thing,"  cried 
Nellie. 

"  Are  you  suffering  at  all,  Aunt  ?  "  he  inquired, 
anxious  to  change  the  subject. 

"  I  don't  think  so,"  said  Miss  Yard.  "  It's  all 
going  to  be  wonderfully  peaceful.  I'm  so  thank- 
ful!" 

"  Shall  I  ask  the  vicar  to  call  ?  "  George  whis- 
pered. 

"Of  course  not,"  said  Nellie  fretfully.  "She 
would  think  he  had  come  to  prepare  her.  I  am 
very  sorry  you  sent  for  the  doctor.  Here's  another 
beastly  wasp !  Do  kill  it." 

"  Is  she  packing  my  clothes  ?  "  whispered  Miss 
Yard,  peering  over  the  bed-spread. 

"  No,  and  I'm  not  going  to,"  replied  the  young 
rebel. 

George  struck  out  manfully  at  the  living  wasp, 


238  A  DRAKE  BY  GEORGE ! 

knocked  it  down  somewhere,  and  began  to  search 
for  the  body  which  was  still  buzzing. 

"  Oh  dear !  "  cried  Miss  Yard.  "  There's  such  a 
dreadful  pain  in  my  hand." 

"  I  knocked  it  on  the  bed.  She  really  is  stung  this 
time ! "  George  shouted,  seizing  the  insect  in  his 
handkerchief  and  destroying  it;  while  Nellie  fled  for 
the  restoratives  which  were  necessary  at  last. 

It  was  the  best  thing  that  could  have  happened, 
for  immediately  her  hand  was  bandaged,  Miss  Yard's 
interest  became  centred  in  that,  and  she  forgot  there 
was  anything  else  to  worry  about.  When  the  doc- 
tor called  next  day,  he  was  advised  to  say  nothing 
about  affairs  internally,  but  to  concentrate  all  his 
ability,  and  his  bedside  manner,  upon  the  outward 
and  manifest  sting;  with  the  result  that  Miss  Yard 
was  pronounced  out  of  danger  within  forty-eight 
hours ;  by  which  time  George  had  vacated  the  prem- 
ises and  made  room  for  Percy. 

Hardly  had  he  driven  away  when  there  came  a 
knock  upon  the  back  door,  and  when  Kezia  went  to 
answer  it,  she  found  the  Wallower  in  Wealth  stand- 
ing there,  with  twenty-five  shillings  in  his  hand  and  a 
bargaining  expression  on  his  face.  Having  inquired 
after  the  well-being  of  every  one  in  the  house,  and 
made  a  few  remarks  upon  the  climate,  he  stated  that 
he  had  lately  enjoyed  a  conversation  with  the  black- 
smith, who  had  declared  there  never  was  a  machine 


WASPS  AND  OTHER  WORRIES       239 

he  couldn't  mend  and,  if  the  musical-box  were  brought 
to  his  forge,  he  would  speedily  compel  it  to  play  all 
kinds  of  music. 

"What's  it  all  about?"  asked  Kezia ;  and,  as  she 
put  the  question,  Bessie  crossed  the  road.  Upon 
those  rare  occasions  when  she  happened  to  be  at 
home,  there  was  nothing  going  on  in  the  house  op- 
posite which  Bessie  did  not  contemplate  from  her 
upstairs  window. 

"  Mr.  Drake  promised  me  the  musical-box,"  ex- 
plained the  visitor,  who  had  watched  the  departure  of 
George  before  setting  out  on  his  expedition. 

"  It  ain't  his,  and  he  knows  it.  And  you  knows 
it  too,"  said  Kezia  warmly,  "  else  you  wouldn't  ha' 
waited  till  he'd  gone  away." 

"  Gone  away,  has  he ! "  exclaimed  the  Wallower  in 
Wealth.  "  You  give  me  his  address  and  I'll  send 
the  money  on  to  him." 

"  That  musical-box  belongs  to  me,"  said  Kezia. 

This  was  a  critical  moment  in  Bessie's  career ;  to 
have  yielded  then  would  have  meant  the  complete 
abandonment  of  all  her  rights  in  furnishings.  She 
did  not  hesitate  in  declaring  war  upon  her  ancient 
ally  with  two  steely  words : 

"  'Tis  mine !  " 

"  I'm  surprised  to  hear  you  say  such  a  thing,  Bes- 
sie Mudge;  and  Miss  Sophy  lying  ill  in  bed  too," 
replied  Kezia. 


240  A  DRAKE  BY  GEORGE! 

"  Mrs.  Drake  left  me  the  musical-box,  and  I 
ha'  got  writing  to  prove  it,  and  me  and  Robert 
are  only  waiting  vor  Miss  Sophy's  funeral  to  take 
it." 

"  Mrs.  Drake  said  I  wur  to  have  all  the  furniture 
in  the  house." 

"  I  wouldn't  like  to  have  to  call  you  anything," 
said  Bessie. 

"  And  I'd  be  cruel  sorry  to  fancy  you  craved  to 
hear  the  like,"  retorted  Kezia. 

Then  they  paused  to  think  out  new  ideas,  and  to 
place  their  arms  in  more  aggressive  attitudes. 

"  When  furniture  be  left  to  more  than  one  per- 
son simultaneous,  'tis  usual  to  divide  it,"  explained 
the  Wallower  of  Wealth. 

"  Half  a  musical-box  b'ain't  of  no  use  to  me." 

"  Nor  me." 

"  You  sell  me  the  box,  and  I'll  give  you  twelve 
shillings,  and  twelve  shillings  to  Mrs.  Mudge,  and 
I'll  get  it  put  right  at  my  own  expense,"  said  the 
Wallower  in  Wealth,  seeking  to  introduce  the  peace- 
ful principle  of  compromise. 

"  I  wouldn't  take  twelve  pounds.  The  Captain 
told  me  there  warn't  another  box  like  that  in  this 
world,"  said  Kezia. 

"  He  told  me  there  wur  another,  but  'twas  lost," 
replied  Bessie,  adding  with  the  same  spirit  of  de- 
termination, "  I  wouldn't  take  twelve  pounds  neither. 


WASPS  AND  OTHER  WORRIES 

Robert  ses  not  a  thing  in  the  house  can  be  sold  with- 
out his  consent." 

"  Who's  Robert  Mudge?  "  cried  Kezia,  in  the  voice 
of  passion. 

"  He's  my  husband,"  replied  Bessie. 

"And  who  be  3rou?  " 

"  I'm  his  wife." 

"  Sure  enough !  They'm  husband  and  wife.  I  saw 
'em  married,"  said  the  Wallower  in  Wealth,  with  a 
distinct  impression  that  Bessie  was  winning  on  points. 

"  I  don't  know  what's  going  to  happen  to  us,  I'm 
sure,"  said  Kezia.  Then,  in  accordance  with  military 
strategy,  she  conquered  the  enemy  by  abandoning 
her  position  and  slamming  the  door  after  her. 

That  evening  Bessie  advanced  as  usual  for  coffee, 
which  included  a  hot  meal,  and  during  this  campaign 
Robert  did  not  accompany  her,  being  detained,  ac- 
cording to  the  best  of  his  wife's  belief,  in  the  bakery, 
working  overtime  at  buns.  Kezia  distrusted  this 
communication,  as  no  festival  of  buns  was  impend- 
ing, and  arrived  at  the  conclusion  that  the  assistant- 
baker  had  absented  himself  from  coffee-drinking  ow- 
ing to  a  bashfulness  not  uncommon  in  the  time  of 
war  and  tumults.  Having,  as  she  supposed,  abated 
the  pride  of  Robert,  Kezia  sought  to  assuage  the 
malice  of  Bessie  by  small  talk  concerning  Miss  Yard's 
convalescence,  the  departure  of  George,  which  was 
positively  final  like  the  last  appearance  of  an  ac- 


A  DRAKE  BY  GEORGE! 

tor,  and  the  Turkish  state  of  things  at  Black  Anchor. 
But  the  musical-box  remained  an  obsession,  playing 
a  seductive  jig  for  Bessie,  and  a  triumphal  march 
for  Kezia ;  and  at  last  the  former  said : 

"  Me  and  Robert  ha'  been  talking,  and  he  ses  noth- 
ing should  be  took  away  avore  Miss  Sophy  dies." 

"  That's  what  my  dear  missus  said.  Not  me,  nor 
you,  nor  Mr.  George,  wur  to  touch  anything  till  Miss 
Sophy  had  been  put  away,"  agreed  Kezia. 

"  Didn't  Mr.  George  sell  part  o'  the  cloam?  "  asked 
Bessie. 

"  Well,  Bess,  I  did  give  'en  a  pair  of  old  vases. 
I  know  I  ought  not  to  ha'  done  it,  but  we've  got 
plenty  o'  cloam,  and  I  wanted  the  poor  fellow  to  have 
something,  him  being  a  relation." 

"  What  us  wants  to  think  about  is  this,"  Bessie 
continued,  "  me  and  you  ain't  agoing  to  quarrel. 
Mrs.  Drake  made  a  lot  of  mistakes  in  her  lifetime, 
poor  thing,  and  'tis  vor  us  to  make  the  best  of  'em." 

"  I'm  sure  I  put  in  a  good  word  vor  you  many  a 
time,"  declared  Kezia. 

"  I  know  you  did,"  said  Bessie  warmly. 

"  I  used  to  say  to  missus,  '  Never  mind  about  me, 
but  do  ye  leave  Mr.  George  and  Bessie  something. 
I  don't  care  about  myself,'  I  said." 

"  When  us  come  back  from  Miss  Sophy's  funeral, 
us  will  divide  up  the  things.  First  I'll  take  some- 
thing." 


WASPS  AND  OTHER  WORRIES       243 

"  First  me !  "  said  Kezia  sharply. 

"  You'm  the  eldest.  You  can  take  first,"  said  the 
generous  Bessie.  Then  she  inclined  her  head  to- 
wards the  door  and  whispered,  "  Ain't  that  some  one 
in  the  hall?" 

"  'Tis  only  Miss  Nellie,"  said  Kezia.  "  There's  a 
drop  o'  cocoa  left  in  the  saucepan,  Bess." 

"  I'm  sorry  us  had  words  to-day,  Kezia,"  said 
Bessie,  as  she  took  the  drop. 

"  Don't  ye  say  anything  more  about  it.  I'm  sure 
the  dear  missus  would  walk  if  she  fancied  we  weren't 
friendly.  But  I  do  wish  she  hadn't  got  so  forgetful 
like." 

"  That  ain't  Nellie !  "  cried  Bessie,  listening  again. 

"  Sounds  as  if  Miss  Sophy  had  got  out  of  bed  and 
fallen  down." 

"  'Twas  a  bump  vor  certain.  I'm  agoing  to  see," 
said  Bessie,  opening  the  kitchen  door. 

She  advanced  along  the  passage,  but  was  back  in  a 
moment. 

.  "  The  hall  door's  wide  open  —  and  I  saw  a  light 
from  the  parlour." 

"  There's  a  man  in  the  house ! "  screamed  Kezia. 
"  Don't  ye  go  out,  Bess ! " 

"Who's  there?"  called  the  valorous  Bessie,  ad- 
vancing again  to  the  passage.  Then  she  shrunk 
back,  crying: 

"  Here's  a  young  man  —  and  here's  an  old  'un. 


A  DRAKE  BY  GEORGE! 

They're  carrying  something.  Don't  ye  go  out, 
Kezia." 

"  Oh,  my  dear,  I  ain't  agoing  to,"  faltered  Kezia, 
retiring  into  the  far  corner  of  the  scullery. 

"  They'm  running !  "  Bessie  muttered.  "  One  wur 
youngish,  and  t'other  wur  oldish.  They  ha'  gone 
now.  I  heard  'em  shut  the  gate." 

"  'Tis  they  Brocks,"  whispered  Kezia  in  terror  of 
her  life. 

"  'Tis  somebody  who  knew  Miss  Sophy  wur  lying 
ill  in  bed." 

Bessie  took  the  lamp  and  went  forth  boldly,  calling 
a  challenge  at  every  step.  Presently  Kezia  plucked 
up  courage  to  follow,  and  they  went  together  into  the 
parlour. 

The  musical-box  had  disappeared :  so  had  the  pair 
of  silver  candlesticks,  the  Russian  Ikon,  and  various 
other  rich  and  rare  antiquities. 

"  Oh,  Kezia ;  ain't  it  awful  in  a  Christian  coun- 
try ! "  exclaimed  Bessie. 

"  Go  vor  policeman !  No,  don't  ye  —  they  may 
come  back  again." 

Then  Kezia's  eyes  fell  upon  the  mummy,  and  she 
cried  hysterically,  "  Thank  heaven  they  ha'  spared 
the  King  of  Egypt ! " 


CHAPTER  XIV 

THE    GRABBERS 

THE  constable,  an  exceedingly  able  man  who 
was  expecting  to  become  a  sergeant,  gave 
it  as  his  opinion  that  a  thief  had  been  at 
work.  In  support  of  this  theory  he  pointed  out  cer- 
tain prints  of  hob-nailed  boots,  which  upon  examina- 
tion he  discovered  to  be  his  own.  Thereupon  he  in- 
creased his  reputation  by  a  shake  of  the  head,  and 
the  statement  that,  even  in  a  small  community,  mys- 
teries were  bound  to  happen. 

Kezia  began  to  mutter  about  Sidney  Brock,  who 
had  eaten  and  drunk  in  her  kitchen,  and  had  en- 
deavoured to  entice  Nellie  into  his  harem;  while 
Bessie  had  the  effrontery  to  suggest  she  had  seen 
two  dark  shadows,  unquestionably  substantial,  dis- 
appearing along  the  lane  in  the  direction  of  Black 
Anchor. 

"  You  can  get  to  London  by  that  road,"  replied 
the  policeman.  "  Were  they  walking  or  running  ?  " 
he  inquired. 

"  When  I  last  saw  'em  they  was  running  fit  to 
break  their  necks,"  said  Bessie. 

245 


246  A  DRAKE  BY  GEORGE! 

The  constable  twirled  his  moustache  and  smiled  in 
a  superior  fashion ;  for  he  was  about  to  make  a  point. 

"  Running  with  a  musical-box  pretty  near  the  size 
of  a  piano,  not  to  mention  other  articles  of  furni- 
ture," he  said. 

"  The  box  wur  big,  but  not  very  heavy,"  explained 
Kezia.  "  It  stood  upon  legs,  four  of  'em,  but  a  man 
could  lift  it  off  and  carry  it." 

"  And  the  legs  would  follow  after  ?  "  suggested 
the  policeman,  who  believed  in  making  people  laugh ; 
but  he  failed  on  this  occasion. 

"  They  would  have  to  walk  back  for  the  legs," 
Kezia  explained. 

"  How  many  men  did  you  say  there  were?  " 

"  Two,  but  I  wouldn't  swear  to  nothing,"  replied 
the  tactful  Bessie. 

"  If  policeman  wur  to  go  along  the  lane  he  might 
catch  up  wi'  them,"  suggested  Kezia. 

The  officer  declined,  pointing  out  that  it  would  be 
a  physical  impossibility  for  two  men  to  carry  such 
bulky  articles  all  the  way  to  Black  Anchor,  and  a 
moral  impossibility  to  do  so  and  escape  detection. 
Then  he  sought  for  information  concerning  the  own- 
ership of  the  purloined  property. 

"  'Tis  mine,"  came  the  simultaneous  answer. 

"  That  wants  a  lawyer,"  said  the  policeman,  be- 
ginning to  show  the  acumen  which  was  winning  him 
promotion ;  and  when  the  position  had  been  explained 


THE  GRABBERS  247 

he  continued,  "  Maybe  Mrs.  Drake  left  a  like  paper 
for  Miss  Yard?" 

"  Two  of  'em,"  said  Kezia. 

"Leaving  her  everything?" 

*'  Just  the  house  and  a  pair  of  silver  candlesticks." 

"  What  ha'  been  stolen,"  added  Bessie. 

"And  a  paper  for  Miss  Blisland?  "  went  on  the 
policeman,  longing  for  a  superior  officer  to  hear  him. 

"  Her  left  she  the  round  table  in  the  parlour,  but 
that  be  rightfully  mine,"  replied  Kezia. 

"  Mine  too,"  said  Bessie. 

"  Likely  enough  she  left  a  bit  of  writing  for  Mr. 
Drake?" 

"  He  got  a  bit,  but  he  wouldn't  show  it  to  no  one," 
said  Kezia. 

"  Maybe  the  person  who  took  the  things  has  got 
about  as  much  right  to  them  as  certain  other  folks," 
said  the  constable  darkly.  "  That's  all  I  can  say  at 
present,  but  I'll  make  inquiries  in  the  morning,"  he 
added,  as  Robert  came  up  to  find  out  what  had 
happened. 

Highfield  was  an  honest  place,  where  a  farmer  did 
not  wait  for  a  dark  night  to  divert  his  neighbour's 
water  supply,  or  postpone  the  cutting  down  of  a 
hedge,  which  did  not  belong  to  him,  to  a  misty  day. 
The  inhabitants  therefore  were  convulsed  with  horror 
when  informed  by  Robert  that  an  act  of  real  dis- 
honesty had  happened:  to  wit,  a  pair  of  desperate 


248  A  DRAKE  BY  GEORGE! 

ruffians  had  broken  into  Windward  House  and  de- 
parted with  much  furniture.  It  became  at  once 
obvious  to  everybody,  except  the  policeman,  that 
the  district  had  been  systematically  plundered. 
Squinting  Jack  declared,  now  he  came  to  think  of 
it>  eggs  had  been  missing  from  his  hen-roost  for 
weeks  past;  the  Wallower  in  Wealth  swore  that  a 
sum  not  exceeding  twenty-five  shillings  had  been  ex- 
tracted from  his  mattress ;  while  the  Dumpy  Philoso- 
pher discovered  a  number  of  vacancies  among  the 
red-cabbages  in  his  back  garden. 

This  being  a  matter  of  morality,  the  vicar  was 
made  the  victim  of  a  deputation,  headed  by  the  Dis- 
mal Gibcat,  an  inevitable  but  unfortunate  selection, 
as  this  gentleman  had  not  said  his  prayers  in  public 
for  some  years,  because,  according  to  his  own  state- 
ment, a  violent  fit  of  nasal  catarrh  seized  upon  him 
immediately  he  entered  the  church.  The  Dismal  Gib- 
cat,  encouraged  by  the  silent  but  moral  support  of 
several  Nonconformists,  who  were  generally  credited 
with  loving  their  neighbours  rather  more  earnestly 
than  themselves,  framed  an  indictment  against  the 
Brocks:  they  were  aliens  who  had  sprung  up  at 
Black  Anchor  with  the  suddenness  of  toadstools; 
no  respectable  female  presides  in  their  kitchen ;  they 
were  visited  frequently  by  women  of  a  certain  class ; 
they  had  already  corrupted  the  young  people  of  the 
neighbourhood;  and  were  now  breaking  into  houses 


THE  GRABBERS  249 

and  removing  every  article  of  value.  Assassination 
of  prominent  personages  would  follow  in  due  course. 

"  You  are  entirely  mistaken,"  replied  the  vicar, 
somewhat  stiffly.  "  It  must  be  well  known  to  the 
parish  that  I  often  visit  the  Brocks." 

"  They  do  say  you'm  friendly  wi'  every  one,"  ob- 
served the  Dismal  Gibcat  bitterly,  as  he  was  ob- 
viously an  exception. 

"  I  hope  so.  At  all  events  I  like  the  Brocks  —  in- 
deed, I  respect  them." 

"  How  about  they  women  and  gals  ?  "  cried  the 
Dismal  Gibcat. 

"  Probably  their  presence  can  be  explained.  As 
for  this  robbery,  it  is  ridiculous  to  suspect  the  Brocks. 
I  may  as  well  mention  that  I  knew  something  about 
them  before  they  came  here,"  said  the  vicar. 

"  They  ses  you  turned  Sidney  out  of  the  choir 
because  he  teased  the  maidens." 

"  That  is  quite  untrue.  He  resigned  and  explained 
his  reason  for  doing  so." 

"  Well,  if  they'm  friends  of  yours,  'tis  no  use  us 
talking ;  but  I  believe  they  took  them  things  as  much 
as  if  I'd  seen  'em  doing  it.  Ain't  that  the  general 
opinion  ?  "  demanded  the  Dismal  Gibcat  of  his  limp 
supporters. 

"  I  takes  volks  as  I  finds  'em,"  replied  the  Dumpy 
Philosopher. 

"  I  wouldn't  like  to  say  parson  goes  shares  wi'  the 


250  A  DRAKE  BY  GEORGE ! 

Brocks  in  everything  —  in  every  single  thing,"  ob- 
served the  Dismal  Gibcat,  as  the  deputation  retired, 
"  but  I  shouldn't  be  surprised  if  a  lot  o'  volk  didn't 
think  so." 

During  this  excitement  Percy  and  his  young  lady 
arrived,  two  days  before  they  were  expected,  and 
flustered  Kezia  so  that  she  could  think  of  the  robbery 
only  at  intervals.  Bessie  made  no  mention  of  it: 
neither  did  Robert,  though  he  went  to  the  village 
shop,  purchased  a  pound  of  candles,  and  tried  un- 
successfully to  buy  a  bottle  of  lubricating  oil.  As 
it  was  impossible  in  Highfield  to  enter  into  secret 
negotiations  for  the  purchase  of  even  a  penny  tin 
of  mustard,  the  policeman,  in  the  course  of  his  in- 
quiries, heard  about  it  and,  having  worked  out  the 
problem  without  the  aid  of  pencil  and  note-book,  he 
proceeded  to  the  bakery  and  told  Robert  he  ought 
to  be  ashamed  of  himself. 

"For  why?"  asked  the  assistant-baker,  with  the 
assurance  of  a  man  who  had  nine  points  of  the  law 
in  his  favour. 

"  What  did  you  buy  this  morning  at  Mrs.  Trivell's 
shop?" 

"  Bottle  o'  blacking,"  replied  Robert. 

"  Sure  it  wasn't  whitewash  ?  What  else  did  you 
buy?" 

"  Penn'orth  o'  blacklead,"  said  Robert  cheerfully. 

"Making  the  case  pretty  black,  ain't  you?     You 


THE  GRABBERS  251 

didn't  buy  a  pound  of  candles,  of  course  —  best  wax 
candles.  But,  if  you  did  buy  candles,  what  were  you 
going  to  do  with  them?  " 

"  I  don't  know  what  you  can  do  wi'  candles  ex- 
cept light  them,"  said  Robert. 

"  And  you  didn't  buy  a  bottle  of  lubricating  oil, 
because  Mrs.  Trivell  hasn't  got  any.  If  you  did  buy 
a  bottle  of  salad  oil,  what  would  you  be  going  to 
do  with  it  ?  "  continued  the  policeman,  in  his  best 
and  brainish  manner. 

"  You  can  do  pretty  near  anything  wi'  salad  oil," 
declared  Robert. 

"  Among  the  things  stolen  from  Windward  House 
last  night  were  a  pair  of  silver  candlesticks  and  a  mu- 
sical-box, out  of  order,  but  perhaps  it  might  play  a 
tune  if  you  oiled  the  works,"  said  the  policeman 
sternly. 

Robert  stroked  his  nose  and  mentioned  that  an 
officer  who  could  put  one  thing  to  another  like  that, 
was  not  at  all  required  in  Highfield  parish. 

"  What  were  you  doing  when  this  robbery  was 
taking  place?"  came  the  question. 

"  I  fancy  I  might  have  been  giving  a  hand,"  Rob- 
ert admitted  cautiously. 

"Who.  helped  you?" 

"  I  don't  know  as  anybody  helped.  But  it  wasn't 
a  robbery,  vor  Mrs.  Drake  left  all  the  things  to  Bes- 
sie," said  Robert  cheerfully. 


A  DRAKE  BY  GEORGE! 

"  And  to  other  folks  as  well." 

"  I  b'ain't  responsible  vor  that.  First  come^  first 
served ;  and  other  volks  take  at  their  peril,  I  ses." 

"  It's  my  duty  to  tell  Miss  Blisland  you  took  the 
things.  Where  have  you  hidden  'em?" 

"  Inside  the  peatstack.  If  you'm  going  to  tell 
Kezia,  I  shall  shift  the  things  into  town  and  sell  'em." 

"  That's  your  affair,"  replied  the  constable. 
"  Seems  you  haven't  exactly  committed  a  robbery, 
as  you  have  a  sort  o'  right  to  the  things ;  and  you 
haven't  committed  a  trespass,  as  you  can  go  into 
the  house  when  you  want  to.  So  I  can't  charge  you 
with  anything.  But  I  reckon  it  won't  be  long  before 
you  have  the  lawyers  after  you ;  and  then  the  Lord 
ha'  mercy  on  your  pocket,  Robert  Mudge." 

Before  the  constable  could  reach  Windward  House 
to  report  how  easily  he  solved  a  problem,  his  wife  ran 
to  meet  him  with  cheering  information  concerning  a 
great  fire  upon  the  outskirts  of  the  parish;  and,  as 
conflagrations  are  things  no  policeman  can  resist, 
he  mounted  his  bicycle  and  scorched  towards  an  iso- 
lated farmhouse  which  was  doomed  to  destruction  ;  as 
its  bankrupt  owner  had  taken  the  precaution  to  store 
plenty  of  dry  faggots,  well-sprinkled  with  petroleum, 
within  the  well-insured  premises.  The  farmer  was 
sitting  upon  an  upturned  pail,  which  smelt  of  any- 
thing but  water,  bemoaning  his  fate,  and  informing 
the  neighbours  that  spontaneous  combustion  would 


THE  GRABBERS 

happen  sometimes  no  matter  what  you  did  to  pre- 
vent it,  when  the  constable  arrived,  sniffing  greedily 
at  the  clue-laden  atmosphere.  The  farmer  replied 
that  the  oil-barrel  had  leaked  terribly,  and  there  was 
no  preventing  that  either.  The  policeman  investi- 
gated, went  on  his  way  to  report,  and  returned  with 
papers  in  his  pocket ;  and,  while  teaching  the  farmer 
a  few  cheerless  facts  concerning  the  legal  meaning  of 
arson,  such  a  trifling  affair  as  the  Highfield  grabbing 
passed  naturally  and  conveniently  from  his  mind. 

Percy  introduced  himself  to  his  Aunt,  kissed  her 
upon  both  cheeks  according  to  a  family  tradition ; 
the  bride-elect  followed  his  example;  and  they  all 
talked  of  Tasmania,  tomatoes,  tickets,  and  travelling, 
with  a  few  remarks  upon  marriage-licences,  until  Miss 
Yard  rolled  off  the  sofa  for  sheer  joy  of  motion. 

"  Nellie !  "  she  called.  "  Pack  my  things  at  once ! 
Percy  and  Emmie  have  got  a  licence  to  go  to  Tas- 
mania, and  tickets  to  get  married,  and  I  won't  stay 
here  any  longer." 

"  But  this  is  your  home,  Aunt,"  mentioned  Percy. 

"  And  there  are  not  many  places  like  that,  you 
know,"  Miss  Lee  added. 

"  I  used  to  have  a  much  better  home  than  this. 
We  had  tea-parties,  and  mothers'  meetings,  and  all 
sorts  of  nice  things.  I'm  going  to  forget  the  past 
and  begin  all  over  again." 

"  Miss  Sophy  is  quite  serious,"  Nellie  explained, 


A  DRAKE  BY  GEORGE! 

when  Percy  approached  her  on  the  subject.  "  It's 
very  seldom  she  keeps  an  idea  in  her  head,  but,  when 
she  does,  it  governs  her  completely.  Ever  since  she 
was  stung  by  the  wasp  she  has  been  worrying  to  get 
away." 

"  How  about  taking  her  back  to  Drivelford?  "  sug- 
gested Percy. 

"  That  would  do  nicely.  But  you  must  see  to  it, 
else  Mr.  Drake  will;  and  there  will  be  more  trouble 
between  him  and  Hunter." 

"  George  has  gone  for  good,"  said  Percy  sternly. 

"  He  told  me  all  he  had  to  do  was  to  go  away  ;  there 
was  nothing  said  in  the  agreement  about  the  time  he 
was  to  be  away.  Miss  Sophy  has  written  already 
inviting  him  back." 

"  If  he  insists  upon  returning  here  to  live  — " 
began  Percy. 

"  You  will  be  at  the  other  end  of  the  world,  and 
Hunter  won't  know  anything  about  it,"  she  con- 
cluded. 

"  George  is  a  great  scoundrel,"  said  Percy.  "  I 
have  only  another  two  weeks  in  England ;  but  I  sup- 
pose I  must  go  to  Drivelford  and  find  a  house." 

Miss  Yard  was  delighted  when  Nellie  informed  her 
that  the  golden  age  of  tea  and  talk  was  about  to  be 
restored;  and  she  blessed  Percy  with  such  tender- 
ness that  her  nephew  felt  compelled  to  make  her  a 
most  liberal  offer. 


THE  GRABBERS  255 

"  You  know,  Aunt,  the  furniture  in  this  house  be- 
longs to  me.  It  was  left  to  George,  and  I  bought  it 
from  him  for  two  hundred  pounds.  Don't  you  think 
the  best  plan  would  be  for  you  to  buy  it  from 
me  for  —  shall  we  say  —  one  hundred  and  fifty 
pounds?  I  lose  and  you  gain,  but  that's  as  it  should 
be." 

"  What  an  excellent  idea ! "  cried  Miss  Yard. 
"  Nellie,  bring  my  cheque-book." 

"  You  cannot  afford  to  spend  so  much  money, 
especially  as  we  have  a  move  before  us,"  said  Nellie 
quietly. 

"  Oh,  I'll  take  a  hundred  pounds,"  said  Percy. 

"  Miss  Sophy  cannot  afford  that  either." 

*'  That's  what  she  always  says,  but  I  tell  her  I  can 
afford  it,"  said  Miss  Yard  crossly. 

Percy  began  to  feel  uncomfortable,  as  this  was 
the  first  time  his  golden  goose  had  been  prohibited 
from  egg-laying.  He  made  up  his  mind  that  Nellie 
was  developing  into  an  offensive  young  person ;  hon- 
est no  doubt,  and  admirably  suited  to  control  Miss 
Yard ;  but  with  mistaken  notions  as  to  the  dignity  of 
a  nephew  and  trustee.  He  sought,  therefore,  a  se- 
cret interview  with  the  young  lady,  in  order  that  he 
might  caution  her  against  any  further  opposition, 
and  remind  her  that  in  all  financial  matters  his  word 
must  be  the  last ;  and  this  interview  was  granted  very 
willingly. 


256  A  DRAKE  BY  GEORGE ! 

"  Sit  down,  please,"  he  began,  when  they  had 
entered  the  dining-room. 

"  If  you  stand,  I  shall  too,"  replied  Nellie,  who 
was  holding  a  small  article  wrapped  in  paper. 

"  Just  as  you  like,"  said  Percy.  "  Is  that  Miss 
Yard's  pass-book  ?  " 

"  No,"  she  replied.  "  But  if  you  want  to  see  the 
pass-book  I  will  fetch  it.  Miss  Sophy  has  a  little 
over  two  hundred  pounds  at  present." 

"  Another  dividend  is  due  next  month.  My  aunt 
is  quite  able  to  pay  a  hundred  pounds  for  the  furni- 
ture." 

"  The  question  is,"  said  Nellie,  "  to  whom  does 
the  furniture  belong?  " 

"  To  me,  of  course." 

"  Have  you  what  the  lawyers  call  a  good  title  ?  " 

"  I  hope  you  are  not  going  to  be  impertinent,  Miss 
Blisland,"  said  Percy  sharply. 

"  I  know  Mrs.  Drake  left  the  furniture  to  Mr. 
George,"  she  continued,  thankful  of  her  promise  not 
to  mention  those  numerous  scraps  of  paper. 

"  And  I  bought  the  stuff  from  him." 

"  With  Miss  Sophy's  money." 

"What  has  that  to  do  with  you?  I  can  borrow 
from  my  aunt,  and  of  course  she  does  not  expect  me 
to  repay  the  money." 

"  But  I  expect  it.  I  manage  her  affairs,  and  I 
tell  you  plainly  this  borrowing  must  cease.  I  shall 


THE  GRABBERS  257 

not  allow  Miss  Sophy  to  pay  you  a  single  penny  for 
the  furniture,  because  it  is  hers  already,"  said  Nellie, 
with  all  the  coldness  of  a  magistrate  sentencing  a 
poacher. 

"  The  little  devil !  You  had  better  keep  your 
mouth  shut,  or  I  may  be  tempted  to  say  something 
rude.  I  don't  want  to  forget  I  am  talking  to  a 
young  woman.  You  have  just  got  to  do  what  I 
tell  you,"  blustered  Percy. 

"  But  I  decline,"  said  Nellie  sweetly. 

"  Then  you  can  look  out  for  another  job.  I  shall 
tell  Hunter  I  have  dismissed  you  for  gross  imper- 
tinence. That's  all  I  have  to  say.  You  may  go 
now." 

"  Thank  you,"  she  said.  "  But  I  haven't  finished 
yet.  I  want  to  know  what  is  going  to  be  done  about 
the  furniture." 

"  I  have  nothing  more  to  say  to  you." 

"  You  must  tell  Miss  Sophy,  and  she  will  consult 
me.  So  I  may  as  well  hear  your  decision  at  once." 

"  I  shall  have  a  sale,"  replied  Percy.  "  My  aunt 
can  buy  new  furniture  when  she  gets  to  Drivelford. 
After  all,  it's  not  so  very  much  more  expensive  than 
moving  it." 

"  You  will  do  nothing  of  the  kind,"  said  Nellie. 

Again  Percy  was  tempted  to  say  something  rude ; 
and  again  he  yielded.  Then  an  explanation  flashed 
across  his  mind  and  he  began  to  laugh. 


258  A  DRAKE  BY  GEORGE! 

"  I  see  what  it  is !  My  aunt  has  promised  to  leave 
you  as  much  as  she  can  — " 

"  Then  why  should  I  object  to  her  buying  the  fur- 
niture? " 

"  All  I  know  is  you  won't  get  it.  I  shall  visit  the 
nearest  auctioneer  to-morrow  — " 

"  It's  time  we  changed  the  subject.  I  believe  this 
is  your  property,"  interrupted  Nellie,  holding  out  the 
packet  wrapped  in  paper.  "  Do  you  think  it  fair 
to  ask  Miss  Sophy  to  pay  for  the  furniture  twice 
over,  when  you  have  just  come  into  two  thousand 
pounds  ?  "  she  added. 

"  Who  told  you  that?  "  cried  Percy,  snatching  the 
packet  and  tearing  off  the  covering.  "  My  pocket- 
book  !  You  stole  it  from  my  room.  You  have  been 
through  my  letters.  You  are  the  most  unscrupu- 
lous young  woman ! " 

"  We  had  better  not  talk  about  stealing.  Perhaps 
you  remember  sitting  in  the  garden  with  Miss  Lee 
yesterday  evening.  You  did  not  come  in  until  dark, 
and  you  were  so  much  engaged  in  discussing  your 
plans  that  you  forgot  to  bring  in  the  chairs.  You 
also  forgot  your  pocket-book.  Kezia  found  it  and 
gave  it  to  me.  Now  I  return  it." 

"  After  turning  it  inside  out,"  he  muttered,  drop- 
ping the  lion's  hide  and  assuming  the  calf-skin. 

"  I  have  not  even  opened  it,"  she  replied. 


THE  GRABBERS  259 

"  Then  how  do  you  know  I  have  come  into  two 
thousand  pounds?  " 

"  A  gentleman  called  Crampy  told  me." 
"  Crampy  !  He  couldn't  tell  you  —  he  wouldn't !  " 
"  It  must  have  been  one  of  the  parrots  then,"  said 
Nellie  gleefully.  "  Let  me  tell  you  a  story !  Once 
upon  a  time  there  was  an  idle  gentleman  who  had 
made  up  his  mind  never  to  work  for  his  living,  be- 
cause he  owned  a  pair  of  Chinese  vases  which  were 
supposed  to  be  priceless.  This  gentleman  had  a 
cousin,  who  knew  the  vases  were  exceedingly  valu- 
able, and,  as  he  was  a  bad  man,  in  fact  a  terribly  un- 
scrupulous man,"  said  Nellie,  opening  her  eyes  widely. 
"  Here,  I  say !  You  stop  that !  "  bellowed  Percy. 
"  I'm  having  my  revenge  for  being  called  a  little 
devil,"  she  said  gaily.  "  As  this  cousin  was  a  thor- 
ough scoundrel,  he  determined  to  grab  the  vases,  so 
he  went  to  another  unscrupulous  man  called  Crampy 
and  told  him,  if  he  could  get  the  vases  cheaply  from 
the  idle  gentleman,  he  should  have  half  the  profit. 
Crampy  agreed,  visited  the  gentleman,  saw  that  the 
vases  were  genuine,  and  offered  him  a  thousand 
pounds.  The  offer  was  refused  and  Crampy  went 
away,  beaten  on  the  first  round.  His  next  step  was 
to  send  the  idle  gentleman  a  list  of  collectors  who 
could  be  trusted  ;  and  this  was  followed  by  a  visit  from 
an  American  millionaire,  Josiah  P.  Jenkins,  who  in 


260  A  DRAKE  BY  GEORGE! 

his  own  domestic  circle  was  generally  known  as  Bill 
Sawdye." 

Percy  forgot  himself  and  swore. 

"  The  story  is  not  very  clear  at  this  point,  but  it 
appears  Bill  Sawdye  was  a  sort  of  handy  man  em- 
ployed by  Crampy  for  dirty  little  jobs  like  this. 
He  offered  the  idle  gentleman  two  thousand  pounds 
for  the  vases.  This  was  accepted,  Bill  paid  the 
money,  and  took  the  things  away." 

"  I  don't  want  to  hear  any  more,"  muttered  Percy, 
gulping  like  a  fish. 

"  But  I  must  have  the  satisfaction  of  showing  you 
how  well  up  I  am  in  the  latest  criminal  news,"  said 
Nellie.  "  Next  day  Bill  sent  back  the  vases,  swear- 
ing they  were  forgeries,  and  assuring  him  Crampy 
was  the  last  hope.  The  idle  gentleman  communi- 
cated at  once  with  Crampy,  agreeing  to  accept  his 
offer.  Crampy  paid  the  thousand  pounds  and  went 
off  with  the  vases.  He  sold  them  for  five  thousand, 
and  that  left  four  thousand  to  be  divided  between  the 
wicked  cousin  and  himself.  It  was  understood  that 
Crampy  should  pay  Bill  and  all  expenses.  These 
two  scoundrels  expect  to  live  happily  ever  after,  but 
I'm  sure  they  won't,"  concluded  Nellie. 

"  I  was  a  fool  to  have  kept  Crampy's  letter.  But 
what  right  had  you  to  take  it  out  of  my  pocket-book 
and  read  it?  "  growled  Percy. 

"  I  told  you  I  never  looked  inside  your  pocket-book, 


THE  GRABBERS  261 

but  you  left  it  unfastened,  and  there  was  a  good  deal 
of  wind  in  the  night.  This  morning,  when  I  went  out 
to  pick  sweet-peas,  I  saw  a  letter  blown  against  the 
sticks.  I  glanced  at  it  out  of  ordinary  curiosity, 
I  read  on  out  of  interest,  and  I  finished  it  out  of 
duty." 

"  Now  you  can  hand  it  over,"  said  Percy  sulkily. 

"  I  intend  to  keep  it  for  the  present.  I  may  even 
have  to  send  it  on  to  Mr.  George." 

"  He  can't  do  anything.  It  was  a  trick,  but  a 
perfectly  straightforward  business  trick.  Crampy 
made  an  offer,  and  he  accepted  it." 

"  Mr.  George  is  a  stronger  man  than  you,  though 
he  does  pretend  to  have  a  weak  back.  If  he  knew 
about  this,  and  could  get  at  you,  I  believe  he  would 
break  your  head.  He  would  write  to  Hunter  any- 
how, tell  Miss  Lee  and  all  her  family  — " 

"  Do  you  know  his  address?  " 

"  Yes,  and  I  can  bring  him  here  to-morrow ;  and  I 
will  too,  if  you  refuse  to  make  over  the  furniture  to 
Miss  Sophy.  That  is  only  fair,  as  she  has  paid  for 
it." 

"  If  I  consent  to  make  my  aunt  a  present  of  the 
furniture?"  suggested  Percy. 

"  Then  I  promise  not  to  mention  the  matter  to  Mr. 
George." 

"  All  right.  I'll  tell  Hunter  to  draw  up  a  deed  of 
gift.  Of  course  you  understand  it  would  be  use- 


262  A  DRAKE  BY  GEORGE! 

less  telling  George,  as  he  cannot  recover  the  vases 

or  make  any  claim  against  me?  " 

"  Then  why  are  you  clearing  out  of  the  country?  " 
"  The  soil  of  Tasmania  is  said  to  be  ideal  for  — " 
"  Fugitives  from  justice,"  finished  Nellie. 
"  Emmie,  my  darling,"  said  Percy,  a  few  minutes 

after  this  interview,  "  I  feel  quite  certain  there  is 

something  wrong  with  the  drains.     I  shall  tell  aunt 

we  are  leaving  in  the  morning." 

"  Percy   is   so   wonderfully   unselfish,"   said   Miss 

Yard  to  Nellie  that  evening.     "  He  has  made  me  a 

present  of  all  the  furniture;  and  to-morrow  he  is 

going  to  find  me  a  new  home." 


CHAPTER  XV 

A  NEW  HOUSE  AND  THE  SAME  OLD  FURNITURE 

MISS  YARD  became  uncontrollable,  almost 
dangerous,  when  Percy  wrote  informing 
her  he  had  discovered  a  house  situated 
upon  high  ground,  quite  fifty  feet  above  the  meadows 
through  which  the  Drivel  percolated.  The  garden 
soil  was  a  singularly  fertile  gravel;  the  view,  which 
was  monotonous,  consisting  chiefly  of  mole-heaps,  was 
fortunately  blotted  out  by  lichened  apple-trees ;  while 
the  principal  reception-room  had  been  designed,  in 
his  opinion,  with  a  view  to  knitting-parties ;  and  a 
retired  Archdeacon  had  quite  recently  passed  away 
in  the  best  bedroom. 

The  old  lady  craved  for  Drivelford  delights  every 
hour  of  the  day.  She  escaped  constantly  from  the 
garden  to  begin  the  first  of  the  hundred  miles  which 
separated  her  from  such  a  respectable  abode.  When 
imprisoned  in  the  parlour,  she  wrote  a  quantity  of 
letters  to  old  friends,  most  of  whom  had  travelled  far 
outside  the  radius  of  the  postal  union,  inviting  them 
to  her  first  tea-party  at  the  Lodge,  Drivelford.  The 

name  of  the  house  was  really  Wistaria  Lodge;  but 

263 


264  A  DRAKE  BY  GEORGE! 

Percy  had  recommended  the  shorter  form  as  less  of  a 
committal. 

"  Percy  must  live  with  us;  he  will  enjoy  the  river. 
Don't  you  remember  the  gentlemen,  in  long  coats  and 
round  hats,  who  used  to  sit  all  day  smoking  and 
tasting  something  out  of  jars?  Percy  would  like 
that,"  she  said  merrily. 

"  Mr.  Taverner  is  now  a  married  man,  and  by  this 
time  he  is  a  thousand  miles  away.  I  suppose  you  are 
referring  to  Mr.  George,"  said  Nellie. 

"  Of  course  I  mean  George.  Why  don't  you  listen, 
child?  He  can  sit  by  the  river  with  the  rest  of  the 
gentlemen.  He  can  hand  round  the  cakes,  and  talk 
to  the  ladies.  Give  nice  things,  and  say  nice  things. 
I  wonder  if  somebody  told  me  that,  or  whether  I  in- 
vented it.  I  used  to  be  clever  once ;  twenty  years  ago 
I  could  have  told  you  what  Wistaria  meant." 

"  It's  a  creeper,"  explained  Nellie.  "  But  Mr. 
Taverner  as  good  as  says  there  isn't  one." 

"  I'm  glad  of  that.  I  do  not  like  creeping  things. 
Now  I'm  going  to  write  to  George.  My  memory  is 
wonderfully  good  to-day,  and  yet  I  cannot  remember 
the  name  of  the  lady  he  married." 

"  My  memory  is  better  than  yours,  but  I  cannot 
remember  it  either,"  laughed  Nellie.  "  When  Mr. 
George  marries,  I  shall  expect  to  hear  your  banns 
read  out." 

"  I  could  have  married  once,"  declared  Miss  Yard. 


NEW  HOUSE  AND  OLD  FURNITURE     265 

"  He  was  a  curate  with  such  a  funny  face,  and  his 
nose  was  just  like  a  cork." 

"  Why  didn't  you?  "  asked  Nellie. 

"  I  think  there  was  some  impediment.  I  rather 
fancy  he  took  to  comic  songs,  or  perhaps  he  forgot 
to  mention  the  matter.  Why  did  George  go  away, 
if  he  never  means  to  get  married?  " 

"  That's  a  long  story,  which  I  cannot  tell  you  now, 
as  I  must  get  on  with  the  packing.  Don't  you  write 
to  Mr.  George.  Leave  that  to  me." 

"  He  is  coming  with  us,"  cried  Miss  Yard. 

"  He  is  not,"  said  Nellie. 

She  went  out,  locking  the  door  lest  Miss  Yard 
should  commence  one  of  her  perambulations  to- 
wards Drivelford,  murmuring  to  herself: 

"  Kezia  goes  with  us,  so  there  will  be  no  trouble 
with  her;  but  Bessie,  of  course,  stays  with  her  hus- 
band. Whatever  will  she  and  Robert  say  —  and  do 
—  when  we  begin  to  move  the  furniture?  George 
must  come  back.  He's  pretty  artful,  and  perhaps 
he'll  suggest  a  plan." 

The  artfulness  of  George  was  a  thing  to  be  reck- 
oned with,  so,  when  Nellie  wrote,  she  did  not  mention 
that  the  furniture  was  now  the  legal  property  of 
Miss  Yard ;  but  merely  informed  him  they  were  leav- 
ing Highfield,  and  requested  him  to  return  as  soon 
as  possible. 

She  had  hardly  finished  this   letter   when  Kezia 


A  DRAKE  BY  GEORGE! 

entered  the  room,  seated  herself  in  the  most  com- 
fortable chair,  as  prospective  mistress  of  all  she  sur- 
veyed, and  announced  her  intention  of  getting  to  the 
bottom  of  everything. 

"  I  don't  know  what's  going  on,  but  there's  some- 
thing being  kept  back  what  I  have  a  right  to  know. 
Who  stole  my  things,  Miss  Nellie?  Who  come  into 
this  house,  when  me  and  Bess  wur  sitting  in  the 
kitchen,  and  took  my  musical-box,  and  my  silver 
candlesticks,  what  dear  Mrs.  Drake  left  me  — 
snatched  'em  out  of  my  hand,  as  you  might  say? 
Mr.  George  had  gone  away,  so  it  couldn't  be  him. 
It  warn't  nobody  here.  It  warn't  the  Brocks,  they 
ses.  That  musical-box  wur  so  heavy  the  dear  Cap- 
tain couldn't  lift  it  without  saying  something  Mrs. 
Drake  wur  sorry  vor.  And  it  went  off  avore  my 
face  as  if  'twur  smoke." 

"  I'm  just  as  much  puzzled  as  you,"  said  Nellie. 
"  Perhaps  the  policeman  will  tell  us  all  about  it 
when  he  comes  home." 

"  I've  got  a  fancy  he  took  the  things  himself. 
He's  got  a  way  of  hanging  about  after  dark  what  I 
don't  like,"  said  Kezia.  "  I  ha'  never  trusted  police- 
man, since  one  kissed  me  when  I  was  a  young  gal. 
'Twas  ten  o'clock  at  night,  and  I  wur  standing  by 
the  gate  —  and  then  he  begged  my  pardon,  said  he'd 
mistook  the  house,  and  'twas  the  gal  next  door  he 
meant  to  kiss.  You  can't  trust  them,  miss.  They 


NEW  HOUSE  AND  OLD  FURNITURE     267 

ses  he's  gone  to  run  in  a  farmer  whose  place  got 
burnt  down,  but  it's  my  belief  he's  gone  to  sell  my 
candlesticks." 

"  You  mustn't  say  such  things,"  cried  Nellie. 

"  And  what's  all  this  about  going  away  ?  Mr. 
Percy  come  here,  and  I  heard  'en  tell  about  finding 
a  house,  and  Miss  Sophy  does  nought  'cept  worry 
about  packing  and  getting  off,  and  her  talks  all  day 
about  a  place  called  Drivelford.  Nobody  tells  me 
nothing  about  it." 

"  Miss  Sophy  has  told  you  a  great  deal." 

"  I  don't  pay  no  attention  to  what  she  ses.  Mrs. 
Drake  said  Miss  Sophy  wur  to  die  here,  and  be  put 
away  in  Highfield  churchyard,  and  nothing  was  to 
be  touched  in  her  lifetime." 

"  But  surely  Miss  Sophy  can  please  herself ! " 

"  Mrs.  Drake  said  I  wur  to  look  after  Miss  Sophy," 
muttered  Kezia. 

"  And  so  you  shall.  We  are  going  away,  as  Miss 
Sophy  really  ought  to  live  in  a  place  where  she  can 
see  a  few  people.  We  have  taken  a  house  in  Drivel- 
ford,  which  is  where  she  used  to  live,  and  we  shall 
go  there  some  time  this  month.  Kezia,  I  want  you 
not  to  mention  this  to  any  one,  not  even  to  Bessie," 
said  Nellie  impressively. 

"  Well,  I  never !  "  gasped  Kezia.  "  I  fancied  we 
should  never  be  going  away  from  here,  and  I  don't 


268  A  DRAKE  BY  GEORGE! 

think  it's  right.  I'm  sure  Mrs.  Drake  wouldn't  like 
it.  What  sort  of  a  place  is  this  Drivelford?  " 

"  Oh,  it's  quite  a  bright  little  town,  and  a  lot  of 
old  people  go  there  to  live  because  the  death-rate  is 
only  seven  and  a  half  in  a  thousand." 

"  What  do  that  mean  ?  "  asked  Kezia. 

"  Statistics  are  beyond  me,  but  I  suppose  it  means 
that  out  of  a  thousand  people  only  seven  and  a  half 
die." 

"  What  happens  to  the  old  folk  what  don't  die  ? 
How  long  do  the  person  what  half  dies  bide  like  that? 
Do  he  get  better  or  worse?  How  be  us  to  know 
whether  me,  and  you,  and  Miss  Sophy,  won't  be 
among  the  seven?  I  can't  sense  the  meaning  of  it." 

"  It  does  seem  rather  hard  to  explain,  especially 
as  Drivelford  has  the  biggest  cemetery  I  ever  saw  in 
my  life.  You  will  like  the  place,  Kezia.  There  are 
plenty  of  houses  and  rows  of  shops  —  one  very  big 
one,  called  Field,  Stanley,  and  Robinson,  where  you 
can  buy  anything." 

"  I'd  like  to  be  among  a  few  shops,"  said  Kezia 
more  cheerfully.  "  Ain't  Stanley  the  name  of  that 
dreadful  woman  what  came  to  Black  Anchor  ?  " 

"  I  believe  that  was  the  name,  but  it  is  quite  a 
common  one.  There  are  no  Stanleys  in  Drivelford 
anyhow ;  but  there  are  three  churches  and  two  chap- 
els." 


NEW  HOUSE  AND  OLD  FURNITURE     269 

"  That'll  keep  us  busy  on  Sundays,"  said  Kezia 
delightedly. 

"  And  there's  an  electric  theatre." 

"  What's  that  ?  "  asked  Kezia  suspiciously. 

"  A  place  where  they  show  pictures." 

"  I  won't  go  there.  I've  heard  a  lot  of  loud  talk 
about  them  places.  I  heard  of  a  young  woman  who 
went  into  one,  and  was  never  seen  again.  That  Stan- 
ley woman  came  from  an  electric  theatre,  where  there 
was  singing  and  dancing  and  showing  their  legs, 
you  may  depend.  Ah,  they'll  be  weeping  and  wail- 
ing and  gnashing  their  teeth  some  day.  Is  there  a 
dentist  in  Drivelford?  " 

"  Yes,  and  several  undertakers,  and  a  huge  lunatic 
asylum,"  cried  Nellie. 

"  Well,  perhaps  it  won't  be  so  bad.  There's  noth- 
ing to  cheer  a  body  in  Highfield.  I'll  try  to  put  up 
with  it,  vor  the  sake  of  dear  Mrs.  Drake.  She  said 
I  wur  never  to  leave  Miss  Sophy.  Poor  Bessie'll 
fret  herself  into  a  decline  when  she  hears  I'm  agoing 
away  vor  ever." 

"  Mind  you  don't  tell  her.  I  know  you  two  are 
great  friends,  but  directly  Bessie  hears  we  are  going 
to  move  the  furniture,  she  and  Robert  will  be  over 
here  claiming  all  sorts  of  things." 

"  So  they  will,"  said  Kezia  uneasily.  "  I  don't 
mind  about  Bessie  —  she's  welcome  to  anything  I 
don't  want  —  but  Robert's  been  talking  a  bit  too 


270  A  DRAKE  BY  GEORGE ! 

sharp  lately.  I  can't  lay  a  hand  on  anything  in 
the  kitchen  without  him  saying  it  belongs  to  Bessie, 
and  telling  me  to  be  careful  how  I  touches  it." 

"  If  it  comes  to  the  worst,  we  might  let  them  have 
the  mummy.  Miss  Sophy  doesn't  really  care  for 
it,"  suggested  Nellie. 

"  They  ain't  agoing  to  have  he.  I  wouldn't  part 
wi'  the  dear  old  stuffed  gentleman,  not  vor  fifty 
pounds,"  cried  Kezia. 

"  Oh  dear ! "  sighed  Nellie.  "  I  can  see  very 
well  we  are  in  for  a  battle  —  feather-beds  torn  in 
pieces  —  carpets  rent  asunder  —  you  and  Bessie  tug- 
ging at  opposite  ends  of  Mrs.  Drake's  sofa.  But 
suppose  Robert  brings  a  crowd ! " 

"  I  won't  say  a  word,"  promised  Kezia,  breathing 
heavily  with  excitement.  "  They  shan't  know  we'm 
going  vor  ever  till  the  vans  come.  I  suppose  us 
couldn't  move  the  things  on  a  dark  night,  same  as 
they  does  in  towns  ?  " 

"  Right  under  Bessie's  window !  "  exclaimed  Nellie. 
"  Why,  it  will  take  them  a  whole  day  merely  to  pack 
the  things." 

"  Robert  won't  let  a  thing  be  took.  He  ha*  said 
so  many  a  time.  *  Not  a  stick,  Kezia,  is  to  go  out 
of  the  house,'  he  says,  *  unless  I  takes  it.'  Whatever 
shall  us  do,  Miss  Nellie?" 

"  We  had  better  wait  until  Mr.  George  comes. 
Then,  if  he  cannot  suggest  anything,  I  shall  have 


NEW  HOUSE  AND  OLD  FURNITURE     271 

to  write  and  ask  Mr.  Hunter  to  come  down  and  look 
after  Miss  Sophy's  interests." 

"  But  the  furniture  don't  belong  to  she,"  objected 
Kezia. 

"  At  all  events  she  has  a  life  interest  in  it,"  Nellie 
reminded  her. 

"  Sure  enough.  Mrs.  Drake  said  it  wur  to  belong 
to  Miss  Sophy  while  she  lived,  but  no  longer.  I  sup- 
pose I'll  have  to  see  about  letting  the  house  now," 
Kezia  remarked,  gazing  yearningly  at  the  oleo- 
graphs. "  I  did  think  once  of  living  here,  when  Miss 
Sophy  wur  took,  but  it's  too  big  vor  me,  and  I'd 
feel  lonely  here.  Besides,  I  wouldn't  want  to  bring 
back  the  furniture.  I  ought  to  get  thirty  pounds 
vor  it,  and  that's  a  nice  bit  coming  in  every  year. 
Perhaps  I  might  sell  it,  but  I  fancy  Mrs.  Drake 
wouldn't  like  me  to  do  that.  What  would  you  do, 
if  the  place  wur  yours,  Miss  Nellie  —  would  you  let 
or  sell  it?" 

The  girl  seized  her  letter  and  fled,  being  far  too 
kindly  a  little  coward  to  inform  Kezia  that  the  house 
belonged  to  George.  She  looked  into  the  parlour, 
where  Miss  Yard  was  singing  away  happily  and, 
after  bidding  her  to  go  on  with  her  warbles  for  an- 
other ten  minutes,  she  ran  out  of  the  house;  but 
hardly  had  turned  towards  the  post-office  when  a 
voice  called  from  the  opposite  direction.  Nellie 
turned,  shading  her  eyes,  seeing  nothing  at  first  be- 


A  DRAKE  BY  GEORGE! 

cause  she  was  staring  into  the  glow  of  the  sunset; 
and  then  two  figures  advanced  towards  her  —  the 
policeman  and  George  Drake. 

"  I  was  just  going  to  post  a  letter  to  you.  What- 
ever has  made  you  turn  up  again  ?  "  she  cried. 

"  The  bad  shilling  has  saved  you  a  good  penny 
stamp,"  replied  George.  "  I  seemed  to  have  been 
away  quite  long  enough  and,  as  my  lodgings  were 
jolly  dull,  I  decided  to  accept  Aunt  Sophy's  invita- 
tion to  live  in  my  own  house  again.  I  ought  never 
to  have  gone,  for  as  soon  as  I  was  out  of  the  house  — 
what  do  you  think  the  policeman  has  been  telling 
me?" 

"  About  the  robbery." 

"  How  that  miserable  Robert  stole  my  things,  while 
Bessie  kept  Kezia  in  the  kitchen." 

"  That's  right,  miss.  I  guessed  how  it  was  at 
once,  but  couldn't  say  anything  till  I'd  made  sure. 
I  was  just  coming  to  tell  you  when  I  met  Mr.  Drake," 
said  the  new  sergeant,  stroking  his  moustache  com- 
placently. 

"  It  doesn't  pay  to  be  a  rascal  here,"  said  George. 
"  This  policeman  has  caught  a  farmer  burning  down 
his  house,  and  Robert  making  off  with  my  property, 
within  the  last  few  days.  I  hope  it  won't  be  long 
before  he  gets  a  murder.  I  don't  mind  telling  him 
to  his  face  that  he  deserves  a  double  murder  and  sui- 
cide." 


NEW  HOUSE  AND  OLD  FURNITURE      273 

The  constable  expressed  his  gratitude  for  this  un- 
solicited testimonial,  and  added,  "  Mr.  Drake  thinks, 
miss,  I'd  better  not  go  any  further  in  the  matter, 
as  there  seems  to  be  a  sort  of  doubt  as  to  who  owns 
the  furniture." 

"  There  is  no  doubt  whatever.  I  own  the  things, 
and  I'll  see  about  getting  them  back  without  troubling 
you,"  said  George. 

"  Right,  sir ! "  Then  the  policeman  bade  them 
good  evening  and  went  his  way. 

Immediately  they  were  alone,  George  burst  out 
excitedly,  "  Nellie,  there's  another  girl ! " 

"In  your  case?  Well,  nobody's  jealous,"  she 
replied. 

"  A  prettier  one  than  ever,  but  very  young,  in 
short  skirts,  with  her  hair  down,  and  her  name's 
Teenie,"  he  continued,  without  even  hearing  her  com- 
ment. 

61 1  think  you've  come  back  perfectly  crazy,"  ob- 
served Nellie. 

"  If  you  don't  believe  me,  you  can  just  go  to  Black 
Anchor  and  find  out  for  yourself." 

"  Oh,  you  mean  another  girl  there ! "  she  ex- 
claimed, flushing  angrily,  and  adding,  "  I  don't  want 
to  hear  any  more  —  but  how  do  you  know  ?  " 

"  She  travelled  in  the  same  carriage  with  me,  and 
I  thought  what  a  dear  —  I  mean  passable  little  thing 
she  was.  Directly  the  train  stopped  I  saw  Sidney, 


274  A  DRAKE  BY  GEORGE ! 

and  he  called  out,  '  Here  I  am,  Teenie  darling ! ' 
And  the  little  girl  fairly  shouted,  '  Oh,  Sidney  dear, 
how  brown  you  are!'  Then  she  jumped  out,  and 
they  kissed  and  hugged.  I  never  saw  anything  more 
disgraceful  in  my  life.  I  sat  back  in  the  carriage  so 
that  Sidney  shouldn't  see  me.  I  suppose  they  have 
driven  through  the  village  by  this  time,  unless  they 
have  the  decency  to  wait  until  it's  dark." 

"  Where's  your  luggage  ?  "  asked  Nellie  rather 
sharply,  but  determined  to  change  the  subject. 

"  First  the  painted  lady,  then  Dolly,  now  Teenie ! 
Thirty,  then  twenty,  and  now  fourteen!  The  next 
will  be  twelve,  and  after  that  they'll  be  coming  in 
perambulators.  My  word,  young  Sidney  is  a  patri- 
arch!" 

"  Hold  your  tongue,"  cried  Nellie,  more  sharply 
than  she  had  ever  spoken  in  her  life. 

"  I'm  sorry,  but  my  feelings  ran  away  with  me  — 
she  was  such  a  pretty  youngster  —  but  of  course  it's 
fearfully  sad.  I  had  to  walk  from  the  station,  as  I 
couldn't  get  a  conveyance:  the  carrier  can  fetch  my 
box.  What's  the  news  ?  Has  Percy  been  ?  " 

"  He  came,  saw  me,  and  fled,"  replied  the  girl  more 
amiably. 

"  I  knew  he  was  a  coward,  but  I  didn't  suppose  you 
could  frighten  any  one." 

"  He  wanted  Miss  Sophy  to  buy  the  furniture.  I 
told  him  it  was  hers  already.  He  blustered  and 


NEW  HOUSE  AND  OLD  FURNITURE     275 

threatened ;  I  stood  like  a  tor.  He  was  so  rude  that 
I  lost  my  temper ;  and  when  I  am  angry  I  can  frighten 
any  one.  He  yielded  and  ran.  The  news,"  con- 
tinued Nellie,  "  is  that  we  are  going  to  run  too." 

"  For  a  change  of  air.     Fll  come  with  you." 

"  A  permanent  change.  We  are  going  back  to 
Drivelford.  The  house  is  taken,  and  the  problem 
before  me  is  how  to  move  the  furniture." 

"  So  you  wrote  asking  me  to  come  back  and  do  the 
dirty  work?  " 

"  If  you  like  to  put  it  that  way." 

"  Aunt  Sophy  has  no  right  to  leave  without  giving 
notice.  She  is  my  tenant  for  life.  If  she  breaks  her 
contract  I  shall  claim  the  furniture  —  it  is  mine 
really,  as  Percy  didn't  give  me  a  fair  price,  and  now 
he's  gone  to  Tasmania  he  can't  interfere.  I  have 
always  regarded  the  furniture  as  belonging  to  me 
in  spite  of  Percy's  interference.  Of  course,  when  I 
say  to  me,  I  mean  to  us." 

"  Don't  worry,"  she  said.  "  Mr.  Taverner  has 
signed  a  deed  of  gift  making  over  everything  in  the 
house  to  Miss  Sophy ;  and,  as  she  has  signed  a  will 
in  my  favour,  the  furniture  should  come  to  me 
eventually  —  if  Kezia  and  the  Mudges  don't  grab  it 
all." 

"  So  you  made  Percy  give  my  furniture  to  Aunt 
Sophy.  Percy,  who  has  never  given  away  anything 
in  his  life  except  a  bad  cigar ! " 


276  A  DRAKE  BY  GEORGE ! 

"  Marriage  has  improved  him." 
"  He  wasn't  married  when  he  came  here." 
"  He  was  on  the  brink.     I  persuaded  him  that,  as 
Miss  Sophy  had  paid  for  the  things,  she  ought  to 
have  them." 

"  That  argument  would  simply  slide  off  his  back. 
You  said  he  threatened  you,  and,  from  what  I  know 
of  him,  it's  fairly  certain  that  he  swore  at  you.  Is 
it  likely  he  would  threaten  one  moment,  and  give  way 
the  next?  His  young  woman  may  have  changed  his 
vile  nature  —  I  hope  she  has  —  but  you  can't  reform 
the  stripes  off  a  zebra.  You  found  out  something 
about  him  —  you  made  him  confess  how  he  got  hold 
of  that  money  he  wrote  telling  us  about,  and  why 
he  was  clearing  out  of  the  country.  He  has  de- 
frauded the  Yard  estate,  and  Hunter  helped  him. 
The  next  thing  we  shall  hear  is  that  Hunter  has  gone 
to  study  the  business  habits  and  professional  morals 
of  the  Esquimaux.  Out  with  it,  Nellie,  or  I  shall 
suffer  from  a  horrible  suspicion  that  Percy  has 
squared  you." 

"  I  have  spoken  nothing  but  the  truth,  and 
you  won't  squeeze  anything  more  out  of  me,"  she 
said. 

"  When  a  fellow  stays  in  lodgings,"  said  George, 
"  he  must  either  read  novels  or  go  mad.  I  have  been 
reading  a  quantity  of  novels,  and  they  convinced  me 
that  women  are  deceitful  beings." 


NEW  HOUSE  AND  OLD  FURNITURE     277 

"  They  have  to  protect  themselves  against  the 
perfidy  of  men,"  cried  Nellie. 

"  Remember  poor  innocent  Adam !  He  was ,  all 
right  as  long  as  he  was  engaged  to  Eve ;  but  what  hap- 
pened when  he  married  her  ?  " 

"  It's  a  shame  that  story  was  ever  invented." 

"  He  wouldn't  have  eaten  the  apples ;  peaches  and 
bananas  were  good  enough  for  him,"  George  con- 
tinued. 

"  But  the  serpent  started  it,  and  the  serpent  was 
the  devil  in  disguise,  and  the  devil  is  a  fallen  angel, 
and  all  angels,  as  you  told  me  once,  are  gentlemen. 
So  the  male  sex  is  the  most  deceitful  after  all." 

"Why  can't  you  stick  to  the  subject?"  said 
George  sourly. 

"  Certainly,"  laughed  Nellie.  "  This  business 
about  the  furniture  must  be  settled  finally  one  way 
or  the  other.  Are  the  Mudges  to  have  anything, 
and,  if  not,  how  are  they  to  be  prevented  from  taking 
just  what  they  want?  " 

"  Robert  and  Bessie  are  not  to  take  a  stick  from 
the  house,  or  a  stone  from  the  garden ;  and  they  must 
give  back  the  things  they  have  stolen,"  replied 
George. 

"  Are  those  scraps  of  paper  worth  anything  at 
all  ?  "  she  demanded. 

"  They  are  as  useless  as  agreements  between  na- 
tions." 


278  A  DRAKE  BY  GEORGE! 

"  Then  why  don't  you  tell  Kezia?  " 

"  Because  the  law  is  so  slippery." 

"  That  means  you  are  not  certain." 

"  I  am  quite  positive ;  but  how  can  I  be  responsible 
for  judicial  errors?  Kezia  may  put  her  case  into 
the  hands  of  some  shady  lawyer  —  worse  even  than 
Hunter  —  and  some  stupid  court  may  make  a  mis- 
take in  her  favour.  Kezia  is  going  with  you,  so  there 
will  be  no  trouble  with  her  while  Aunt  Sophy  lives." 

"  But  it's  not  fair  to  keep  her  in  ignorance." 

"  It's  supposed  to  be  a  state  of  bliss." 

"  Oh,  I  can't  argue  with  you.  Will  you  answer  one 
question  properly  ?  " 

"  I'll  try,"  said  George. 

"  How  are  we  to  rescue  the  furniture  from  the 
Mudges  ?  " 

"  If  they  don't  know  you  are  going  to  move,  and 
have  no  suspicions,"  began  George. 

"  They  have  none,"  said  Nellie. 

"  And  are  not  told." 

"  They  won't  be." 

"  Then  you  can  leave  it  to  me,"  said  George. 


CHAPTER  XVI 

GEORGE    TAKES    CONTROL 

MISS  YARD  shuffled  contentedly  downstairs, 
nicely  dressed  for  her  evening  meal,  which 
usually  consisted  of  thin  soup,  a  milk  pud- 
ding, and  boiling  water;  peeped  into  the  parlour, 
drew  a  deep  breath  and  peeped  again,  uttered  a  few 
exclamations,  then  shuffled  back  to  the  stairs,  called 
Nellie,  and  announced: 

"  There's  a  great  big  man  in  the  house !  " 

"  It's  only  old  George,"  whispered  the  irreverent 
girl. 

"  I  don't  know  anybody  of  that  name ;  but  there 
used  to  be  several  King  Georges,  and  they  were 
followed  by  William,  and  then  came  our  dear  good 
Victoria,  who  was  taken  in  the  prime  of  life  just  when 
she  seemed  to  have  settled  down,  and  after  that  I 
don't  remember  anything,"  said  Miss  Yard. 

"  George  is  the  name  of  our  present  King  —  and 
of  about  ninety  per  cent,  of  his  loyal  subjects,"  said 
Nellie. 

"  What's  he  doing  here?  This  isn't  Windsor  Cas- 
tle," stammered  Miss  Yard.  "  Has  he  called  for 

279 


280  A  DRAKE  BY  GEORGE! 

a  subscription?  Gentlemen  who  come  here  always 
want  subscriptions.  Does  he  want  to  hide?  I  do 
hope  there's  not  a  revolution.  Go  and  show  him  into 
a  cupboard,  Nellie,  and  tell  him  how  loyal  we  are." 

"  My  dear  lady,"  laughed  Nellie,  "  you  are  clean 
muddled,  confoozled,  and  astern  of  the  times.  This 
gentleman  is  your  much-respected  relative,  George 
Drake." 

"  Why  couldn't  you  say  so  at  once,  without  talking 
a  lot  of  wicked  rubbish  about  a  revolution  and  the 
Royal  Family  hiding  on  Dartmoor?  "  demanded  Miss 
Yard  snappishly. 

"  Of  all  the  injustice! "  sighed  Nellie;  but  the  old 
lady  had  left  her.  Toddling  at  full  speed  into  the 
parlour,  she  embraced  George,  and  said  how  well  she 
remembered  him,  though  twenty  years  had  passed 
since  they  had  met.  "  I  knew  you  at  once,  directly 
I  looked  into  the  room  I  recognised  your  stooping 
shoulders  and  your  bald  head,"  she  added,  looking  at 
a  portrait  on  the  wall  and  describing  that  accurately. 

"  Nellie  couldn't  make  you  out  at  all,"  she  con- 
tinued, "  but  then  she  was  a  baby  when  you  went 
away.  Nellie,  dear,  where  are  you?  Come  and  be 
kissed  by  your  uncle.  I  told  you  he  would  come  back 
some  day." 

"  The  soup  is  on  the  table,"  cried  Nellie  as  she 
fled. 

The  mind  of  Miss  Yard  roamed  in  a  free  and  happy 


GEORGE  TAKES  CONTROL  281 

state  about  the  nineteenth  century,  enabling  her, 
during  the  progress  of  a  meal,  to  pass  through  a 
number  of  different  periods.  While  taking  her  soup 
and  sipping  her  boiling  water,  she  informed  the  others 
that  the  first  railway  had  recently  been  constructed, 
and  it  ran  between  Highfield  and  Drivelford,  and  for 
her  part  she  was  very  glad  of  it,  as  she  thought  it 
was  quite  time  the  coaches  were  done  away  with,  and 
she  fully  intended  travelling  by  the  railway  if  Mr. 
Stephenson  would  let  her. 

"  Whoever  is  Stephenson  ?  "  inquired  George,  who 
ought  to  have  known  better. 

"  It's  wonderful  what  things  she  does  remember," 
replied  Nellie.  "  She  would  forget  me  if  I  left  her 
to-morrow;  yet  she  can  remember  the  man  who  in- 
vented railways." 

"  I  think  you  had  better  go  to-morrow,"  said 
George,  taking  the  cue. 

"  Yes,  I  should  like  to  be  one  of  the  first,"  Miss 
Yard  admitted. 

"  Why  have  you  put  that  idea  into  her  head?  It 
may  stick,  and  then  she'll  drive  me  crazy,"  scolded 
Nellie ;  it  being  perfectly  safe  to  speak  openly  before 
the  old  lady. 

"  Send  her  off  with  Kezia  at  once,"  urged  George. 

"  I  must  go  with  her." 

"  Then  take  Kezia  too.  If  she  stays  she  will  split 
to  Bessie.  Even  if  she  tries  her  hardest  not  to,  she 


282  A  DRAKE  BY  GEORGE! 

won't  be  able  to  help  herself.  You  can't  keep  any- 
thing a  secret  for  long  in  a  place  like  this.  You 
clear  off,  and  I'll  go  into  lodgings  —  and  read  more 
novels." 

"  Won't  that  look  queer?  " 

"  It  would  if  Kezia  stayed :  it  won't  if  she  goes. 
I  can't  put  up  here  with  nobody  to  look  after  me." 

"  And  you  will  undertake  to  move  the  furniture?  " 

"  I  will,"  he  promised. 

"  Very  well,"  she  murmured  after  a  pause.  "  We 
can't  possibly  get  away  to-morrow,  as  it  will  take 
me  a  day  to  pack ;  but  we  will  go  the  day  after." 

"  Oh,  well,  it's  no  good  bothering  now,"  said  Miss 
Yard  in  a  voice  of  bitter  resignation,  pushing  back 
her  plate  and  kicking  at  her  footstool.  "  They've 
started  without  us." 

George  occupied  his  old  bedroom,  positively  for 
the  last  time,  and  in  the  morning  went  out  to  wrestle 
with  his  difficulties.  His  reception  by  the  villagers 
was  colder  than  ever  because,  during  his  absence,  the 
Dismal  Gibcat  had  made  a  speech  directed  mainly 
against  the  man  who  had  dared  to  interfere  with  local 
progress.  The  Dismal  Gibcat  preferred  to  be  in  a 
minority  of  one,  but  such  was  his  gift  of  eloquence 
that  a  single  speech  sometimes  swung  the  majority 
over  to  his  side ;  which  was  an  embarrassing  position 
only  to  be  escaped  from  by  repudiating  his  former 
opinions.  This  speech  had  done  its  work,  as  George 


GEORGE  TAKES  CONTROL     283 

was  presently  to  discover  when  the  Dumpy  Philoso- 
pher and  the  Wallower  in  Wealth  approached  him 
with  questions  concerning  the  Dartmoor  Railway 
Company. 

That  scheme  is  done  for.  It  was  one  of  my 
uncle's  bubbles,  but  I  have  pricked  it,"  he  replied, 
groping  his  way  back  to  popularity. 

"  Us  wur  told  a  lot  of  American  gentlemen  wanted 
to  build  the  railway  wi*  something  they  called  a 
syndicate,"  said  the  Wallower  in  Wealth. 

"  I  told  'em  the  country  is  hardly  flat  enough," 
said  George. 

"  It  wur  flat  enough  vor  Captain  Drake,  and  it 
wur  flat  enough  vor  you  when  you  fetched  that  mil- 
lionaire down  along  to  look  at  it,"  said  the  Dumpy 
Philosopher. 

"  That's  all  a  mistake.  Mr.  Jenkins  came  here 
to  buy  a  pair  of  vases,"  said  George,  speaking  the 
truth  with  disastrous  results ;  for  the  two  elders  were 
not  quite  such  fools  as  to  believe  a  gentleman  would 
travel  from  London  to  Highfield  for  the  sake  of  pur- 
chasing a  shilling's  worth  of  crockery. 

"  They'm  out  o'  cloam  in  London,  I  fancy,"  re- 
marked the  Wallower  in  Wealth. 

"  And  in  America,"  added  the  Dumpy  Philoso- 
pher. 

"  Mr.  Jenkins  is  a  collector  of  vases,"  explained 
George. 


284.  A  DRAKE  BY  GEORGE! 

"  He  never  come  to  look  at  mine.  There's  a 
proper  lot  o'  cloam  in  Highfield,  and  he  didn't  crave 
to  see  it.  Us  ha'  heard  he  come  to  build  the  rail- 
way, and  you  stopped  him  from  adoing  it." 

"  Well,  perhaps  I  did,"  replied  George,  trying  to 
score  a  point  by  lying.  "  I  know  you  are  all  against 
the  scheme." 

"  Us  wur  agin  it  very  strong,  because  it  had  never 
been  properly  explained,"  said  the  Wallower  in 
Wealth.  "  Us  hadn't  been  told  they  meant  to  put 
a  terminus  in  Highfield.  I  ha'  been  to  terminuses. 
'Tis  places  where  trains  start  from." 

"  And  where  'em  pulls  up,"  added  the  Dumpy  Phi- 
losopher. 

"  Where  they  starts  from  and  where  they  pulls  up 
again.  It  don't  make  no  difference.  I  ha'  started 
from  terminuses,  and  I  ha'  stopped  in  'em,  so  I  knows 
what  I'm  telling  about.  A  terminus  brings  a  lot  of 
money  into  a  place.  When  they  makes  a  terminus 
a  town  is  soon  built  all  round  it.  There's  one  or  two 
in  Highfield  who  ha'  seen  Waterloo,  and  that's  a 
terminus.  And  they  ses  'tis  wonderful  what  a  big 
town  ha'  been  built  all  round  it.  A  hundred  years 
ago  it  wur  just  a  ploughed  field,  where  that  tre- 
menjus  big  battle  was  fought  what  made  us  all  free 
volk  vor  ever;  and  now  'tis  all  terminus  as  far  as 
you  can  see.  That  American  gentleman  come  here 
wi'  his  syndicate  .  .  ." 


GEORGE  TAKES  CONTROL  285 

"  'Tis  something  vor  levelling  the  ground,  I  fancy," 
said  the  Dumpy  Philosopher,  when  his  colleague 
paused. 

"  He  would  ha'  levelled  the  ground  as  flat  as  your 
hand,  and  made  the  terminus ;  and  we  would  ha'  sold 
our  land  vor  what  us  like  to  ask.  Now  you've  ruined 
us,  sir.  You  ha'  stopped  the  terminus  —  and  you 
stole  my  musical-box,"  said  the  Wallower  in  Wealth, 
combining  his  grievances  in  one  brief  indictment. 

"  You're  talking  like  a  child.  How  can  I  steal  my 
own  property?"  cried  George  angrily. 

"  Mrs.  Drake  left  all  your  furniture  to  Kezia," 
shouted  the  Wallower  in  Wealth. 

"  And  the  rest  of  it  to  Bessie,"  added  the  Dumpy 
Philosopher. 

"  They  ha'  got  paper  to  prove  it,  Robert  ses." 

"  Why  did  you  offer  me  money  for  the  musical-box, 
then  ?  "  asked  George. 

"  To  try  your  honesty,"  replied  the  Wallower  in 
Wealth.  "  And  you  warn't  honest.  You  wouldn't 
take  my  money  because  it  warn't  big  enough.  Then 
you  go  and  steal  the  musical-box,  wi'  a  lot  of  other 
things,  from  Kezia." 

"  And  from  Bessie  Mudge,"  added  the  Dumpy  Phi- 
losopher. 

"  And  if  you  don't  get  sent  to  prison  — " 

"  It  won't  be  for  the  same  reason  that  you  aren't 
put  away  in  a  lunatic  asylum,"  George  finished? 


286  A  DRAKE  BY  GEORGE! 

wondering,  as  he  went  on  to  engage  a  lodging,  how  it 
was  his  uncle  had  succeeded  in  ruling  this  community 
of  wranglers. 

A  devout  widow  let  religious  rooms  opposite  the 
churchyard:  they  were  religious  because  tables  were 
piled  with  theological  tomes,  and  walls  were  covered 
by  black  and  white  memorial  cards,  comforting  texts, 
and  discomposing  pictures  of  Biblical  tragedies  in 
yellow  and  scarlet  which  helped  to  warm  the  house 
in  chilly  weather.  Towards  this  dwelling  George 
made  his  way,  knowing  the  importance  of  being  re- 
spectable, although  he  could  not  help  feeling  he  had 
done  nothing  to  deserve  those  pictures.  But  pres- 
ently he  swung  round,  and  went  off  in  the  opposite 
direction.  An  idea  had  come  to  him :  he  remembered 
the  Art  Dyers. 

That  name  described  a  married  couple ;  not  a  busi- 
ness of  giving  a  new  colour  to  old  garments;  but 
the  vocation  of  bread-baking,  cake-making,  and  spe- 
cialising in  doughnuts.  Arthur  Dyer  was  the 
stingiest  man  in  Highfield ;  he  gave  away  no  crumbs 
of  any  kind;  had  any  one  asked  a  stone  of  him,  he 
would  have  refused  it,  but  would  assuredly  have  put 
that  stone  into  his  oven  and  baked  it,  hoping  to  see 
some  gold  run  out.  He  went  to  church  once  a  week, 
no  entrance  fee  being  demanded,  and  always  put  two 
fingers  into  the  offertory  bag,  but  whether  he  put 
anything  else  was  doubtful.  He  was  also  Robert's 


GEORGE  TAKES  CONTROL     287 

employer.  Mrs.  Dyer  had  learnt  in  the  school  of  her 
husband  until  she  was  able  to  give  him  lectures  in 
economy ;  and  in  times  past  she  had  implored  George, 
out  of  his  charity,  to  drive  the  wolf  from  their  door 
by  finding  her  a  lodger. 

"  She  will  ask  a  stiff  price,  and  I  shall  get  nothing 
to  eat  except  bread  puddings,"  he  muttered,  "  but 
the  game  will  be  worth  starvation." 

George  might  also  have  remarked  with  poetic  mel- 
ancholy he  had  lived  to  receive  his  warmest  welcome 
in  a  lodging-house,  when  Mrs.  Dyer  had  taken  him 
in,  showed  him  a  bed,  certain  to  be  well-aired  as  it 
stood  above  the  oven,  and  promised  to  be  much  more 
than  an  ordinary  mother  in  her  attentions.  The 
rooms  appeared  somewhat  barren,  but  the  air  was 
excellent,  being  impregnated  with  an  odour  of  hot 
fat  which  was  a  dinner  in  itself,  and  might  very  pos- 
sibly be  charged  as  one. 

A  slight  difficulty  arose  regarding  terms,  owing  to 
a  sudden  increase  in  the  price  of  commodities  and  a 
shortage  of  domestic  labour.  Everything  had  got  so 
dear  Mrs.  Dyer  could  not  understand  how  people 
lived:  it  seemed  almost  wicked  of  them  to  make  the 
attempt,  but  then  a  funeral  had  got  to  be  such  a 
luxury  it  was  perhaps  cheaper  to  struggle  on.  That 
was  what  she  and  her  husband  were  doing  from  day 
to  day,  with  everything  going  up  except  their  in- 
come. Luckily  they  were  still  able  to  sell  a  few 


288  A  DRAKE  BY  GEORGE ! 

doughnuts :  people  insisted  upon  them  for  their  tea. 
The  local  doctor  spoke  highly  of  them,  and  most  of 
the  babies  in  the  parish  were  brought  up  on  their 
doughnuts,  with  a  little  beer  occasionally  —  the  doc- 
tor said  it  helped.  After  sleeping  in  that  atmosphere 
Mr.  Drake  would  find  one  good  meal  a  day  —  a  chop 
followed  by  bread-and-butter  pudding  —  would  be  al- 
most more  than  he  could  manage.  She  did  not  want 
to  make  a  profit,  but  if  he  could  pay  five  shillings  a 
day,  she  thought  with  careful  management  she  might 
not  lose  much. 

This  matter  arranged,  George  returned  to  Wind- 
ward House,  where  the  packers  were  as  busy  as  a  hen 
with  one  chicken.  Miss  Yard,  feeling  she  must  be 
doing  something,  was  pinning  sheets  of  newspaper 
round  the  mummy.  Bessie  was  hindering  Kezia 
from  filling  all  manner  of  cases  with  various  orna- 
ments and  photographs,  which  it  was  the  custom  to 
take  away  for  the  annual  outing,  although  they  were 
never  removed  from  the  boxes.  Bessie  felt  uncom- 
fortable, as  it  appeared  to  her  Kezia  was  dismantling 
the  place. 

"  You  don't  want  to  take  all  them  pictures,"  she 
said  at  last. 

"  I'd  feel  lonely  without  'em,"  explained  Kezia. 

"  You  never  took  'em  last  time  you  went  to  the 
seaside.  You'm  not  going  to  be  away  more  than  two 
weeks." 


GEORGE  TAKES  CONTROL    289 

"  Miss  Sophy  might  fancy  to  be  away  a  bit  longer. 
I  do  like  to  have  my  little  bits  o'  things  round  me, 
wherever  I  be." 

"  What's  the  name  of  the  place  you'm  going 
to?" 

"  Miss  Nellie  will  tell  ye.  'Tis  worry  enough  vor 
me  to  get  ready  without  bothering  where  we'm  go- 
ing," replied  the  harassed  Kezia. 

"  Miss  Sophy  ses  'tis  Drivelford." 

**  'Tis  something  like  that,  I  fancy,"  admitted 
Kezia,  beginning  to  break  down  under  cross-examina- 
tion. 

"  That's  where  Miss  Sophy  come  from.  It  ain't 
seaside." 

"  A  river  ain't  far  off,"  Kezia  muttered. 

George  had  arrived  and,  hearing  these  voices,  he 
tramped  upstairs  to  save  the  situation. 

"  They  are  going  to  Drivelmouth,"  he  said. 

"  I  fancied  Miss  Nellie  said  Drivelford,"  remarked 
the  futile  Kezia. 

"  I  know  she  did,  and  that's  where  Miss  Sophy  come 
from.  Why  does  she  want  to  go  back  there  again?  " 
Bessie  inquired  warmly. 

"  You  ought  to  know  by  this  time  it's  no  use  at- 
tending to  what  Miss  Yard  says.  Drivelford  is  quite 
a  different  place  from  Drivelmouth,  which  happens 
to  be  on  the  sea  just  where  that  beautiful  river,  the 
Drivel,  runs  into  it.  There's  a  splendid  sandy  beach 


290  A  DRAKE  BY  GEORGE! 

—  and  it's  quite  a  new  place  they've  just  discovered," 
explained  George. 

"  Seems  funny,  if  'twas  there,  they  never  found  it 
avore,"  said  the  suspicious  Bessie. 

"  It  has  just  become  popular.  It  was  a  little  fish- 
ing-village, and  now  they  are  making  roads  and  build- 
ing houses  because  doctors  have  discovered  there's 
something  in  the  air,"  George  continued. 

"  That's  what  Miss  Nellie  told  me.  There's  an 
amazing  big  cemetery,  and  'tis  a  wonderful  healthy 
place,"  said  Kezia. 

"  You  see,  doctors  recommend  the  place  so  highly 
that  old  people  go  there  and  die.  That  accounts  for 
the  cemetery,  which  is  not  really  a  local  affair,  for 
Drivelmouth  is  the  healthiest  place  in  England,"  said 
George. 

"  Miss  Nellie  ses  there  be  a  thousand  volks,  and 
seven  be  took,  and  one  gets  paralytics,"  commented 
Kezia. 

"  Drivelmouth  is  a  great  place  for  general  paraly- 
sis. The  paralytics  are  wheeled  up  and  down  the 
front  all  day.  People  go  there  just  to  see  them," 
said  George  recklessly. 

"  Wish  I  wur  going,"  Bessie  murmured. 

"  Surely  you  are  not  going  to  take  all  those 
things ! "  George  exclaimed,  indicating  a  tea-set,  din- 
ner-service, and  a  quantity  of  art-pottery. 


GEORGE  TAKES  CONTROL  291 

"  That's  what  I  tells  her.  She  don't  want  all  them 
things  away  with  her,"  cried  Bessie. 

"  I  don't  like  leaving  them  behind  —  wi'  thieves 
breaking  into  the  house  to  steal.  I  ha'  lost  enough 
already,"  said  Kezia  plaintively. 

This  was  a  fortunate  remark,  as  it  disconcerted 
Bessie  and  put  a  stop  to  questions,  while  at  the  same 
time  it  removed  her  suspicions.  It  was  not  surpris- 
ing that  Kezia  should  wish  to  take  away  as  much 
treasure  as  possible.  She  would  have  done  the  same 
herself.  Still,  she  did  not  like  to  see  that  dinner- 
service  go  out  of  the  house.  Robert  had  been  about 
to  move  that. 

"  How  long  be  'em  going  away  for,  Mr.  George?  " 
she  asked  presently,  when  Kezia  had  gone  to  gather 
up  more  of  her  possessions. 

"  That  depends  on  the  weather,"  came  the  diplo- 
matic answer. 

Packing  continued  steadily:  boxes,  crates,  and 
hampers  were  piled  up  in  the  hall  awaiting  transport ; 
Kezia  had  been  prevented  from  leaking;  Miss  Yard 
continually  inquired  whether  the  railway  was  quite 
finished. 

The  calm  of  exhaustion  prevailed,  when  there  came 
a  defiant  knock  upon  the  front-door,  and  the  bell  rang 
like  a  fire-alarm. 

"  It  must  be  a  telegram,"  said  George  gravely. 


292  A  DRAKE  BY  GEORGE! 

"  I  hope  nothing  has  happened  to  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Taverner,"  said  Nellie. 

"  Why  shouldn't  something  happen  to  them  ?  " 
George  muttered. 

"  What  do  they  say?  Is  there  any  hope?  "  cried 
Miss  Yard. 

"  We  don't  know  anything  yet,"  replied  Nellie. 

"  The  railway  has  gone  wrong.  I  was  afraid  it 
would  —  they  were  so  venturesome.  You  were  read- 
ing about  letters  coming  without  wires." 

"  Telegrams,"  corrected  Nellie,  listening  to  the 
voices  outside. 

"  Yes,  the  postmen  are  very  wonderful.  You  said 
they  were  using  the  stuff  we  eat  in  puddings,  tapioca 
—  or  was  it  macaroni?  " 

"  You  mean  Marconi  wireless  messages,  Aunt," 
said  George. 

"  I  always  mean  what  I  say,"  replied  the  lady 
curtly. 

In  the  meantime  Kezia  and  Bessie  had  advanced 
together,  preparing  themselves  to  face  the  police- 
inspector,  but  hoping  it  would  be  nothing  worse  than 
the  tax-collector.  Bessie  opened  the  door,  while 
Kezia  sidled  behind  her.  The  next  moment  they 
both  groaned  with  horror. 

"Is  Miss  Blisland  in?"  asked  a  pert  young 
voice. 

"  She  might  be,"  replied  Bessie  hoarsely. 


GEORGE  TAKES  CONTROL  293 

"  Ask  her  please  if  she'll  come  out  and  speak  to 
me." 

"  Oh,  my  dear,  shut  the  door  and  bolt  it ! "  Kezia 
whispered. 

This  was  done,  and  they  presented  themselves  in 
the  parlour  with  woful  faces. 

"  It's  her !  "  Bessie  announced.  "  She  wants  to  see 
you.  She's  standing  on  our  doorstep !  " 

"Who?  "cried  Nellie. 

"  The  last  of  'em  —  the  one  that  come  yesterday. 
She  didn't  tell  us  her  name." 

"  She's  ashamed  of  it,"  said  Kezia. 

"  Perhaps  Mr.  George'll  go  and  send  her  off,"  sug- 
gested Bessie. 

"  Who  are  you  talking  about  ?  "  asked  Nellie  im- 
patiently. 

"  The  wench  from  Black  Anchor.  She  ain't  no 
more  than  a  child,  but  the  way  her  stared  on  us  wur 
awful." 

"  Sent  a  shiver  through  me  —  so  bold  and  dar- 
ing ! "  Kezia  added. 

"Miss  Teenie,  is  it?"  George  muttered.  "Sit 
down,  Nellie;  I'll  go  and  talk  to  her." 

"  I  can  do  my  own  business,  thanks,"  said  Nellie, 
going  towards  the  door. 

"  I'll  come  with  you  anyhow,"  he  said. 

"  You  will  do  nothing  of  the  kind,"  replied  the 
young  lady  coldly. 


294  A  DRAKE  BY  GEORGE! 

Out  she  went,  while  Miss  Yard  stood  trembling  on 
the  hearthrug,  and  Bessie  listened  at  the  keyhole,  and 
Kezia  sniffed  beside  the  window.  George  was  trying 
to  persuade  himself  that  no  young  woman  would  ven- 
ture to  trifle  with  his  noble  nature. 

"  Is  it  very  bad?  "  asked  Miss  Yard. 

"  Yes,  miss,"  replied  Bessie.  "  She's  brought  her 
in  —  she's  taken  her  into  the  dining-room  —  she's 
shut  the  door.  Oh,  Miss,  they're  laughing !  " 

"  I  never  did  think  Miss  Nellie  would  go  like  this," 
Kezia  lamented. 

"  She  was  here  just  now,"  said  Miss  Yard  simply. 

"  Yes,  miss,  but  she's  gone  now  —  gone  to  the 
bad." 

"What's  it  all  about?"  asked  the  old  lady,  ap- 
pealing to  George  who  seemed  to  be  the  only  com- 
forter. 

"  I  am  sorry  to  say  Nellie  has  got  into  bad  com- 
pany —  into  the  very  worst  company  —  and  we  shall 
have  to  be  very  stern  with  her." 

"  Yes,  indeed  we  must,  or  she  will  lose  all  her 
money.  I  know  what  these  companies  are.  I  get  a 
lot  of  circulars,  and  I  always  tell  Nellie  she  is  to 
burn  them,"  said  Miss  Yard  in  sore  distress. 

*'  Just  listen  to  'em  talking !  "  cried  Bessie. 

"  I  can't  abear  much  more,"  Kezia  wailed. 

The  next  minute  Miss  Yard  was  struggling  to- 


GEORGE  TAKES  CONTROL     295 

wards  the  door,  rejecting  the  advice  of  George,  push- 
ing aside  the  arms  of  Bessie;  declaring  that  nobody 
should  prevent  her  from  dragging  Nellie  out  of  the 
pit  of  financial  ruin.  She  stumbled  across  the  hall, 
banged  at  the  door  of  the  dining-room  until  it  was 
opened  to  her;  and  then  came  silence,  but  presently 
the  old  lady's  queer  voice  could  be  heard  distinctly, 
and  after  that  her  bursts  of  merry  laughter.  Miss 
Yard  had  fallen  into  this  very  worst  company  her- 
self. Kezia  and  Bessie  crept  silently  toward  the 
kitchen.  The  whole  house  was  polluted.  George 
searched  for  flies  to  kill. 

"  Oh,  I  say,  what  tons  of  luggage !  "  cried  a  child- 
ish voice. 

"  Yes,  we  are  off  first  thing  in  the  morning,"  said 
Nellie;  and  then  followed  some  whispering,  with  a 
few  words  breaking  out  here  and  there : 

"  Miss  Yard  wants  to  be  among  her  old  friends 
again  ...  a  great  secret,  you  know "  ..."  of 
course  I  shan't  tell  any  one,  but  Sidney  will  be  "... 
"  I'm  so  sorry,  but  it  can't  be  helped  "  .  .  .  "  there's 
such  a  thing  as  the  post "  .  .  .  "  good-bye !  I'm 
so  glad  you  came." 

The  door  shut,  George  jumped  out  of  the  window 
in  time  to  see  the  young  girl  racing  down  the  lane; 
then  he  returned  to  the  house  and  asked  sternly, 
"  What's  the  meaning  of  this?  " 


296  A  DRAKE  BY  GEORGE ! 

"  Really  and  truly  I  don't  know,"  replied  Nellie. 
"  But  I  am  at  least  satisfied  that  Highfield  needs  a 
missionary." 

"  Now  you  are  shuffling.  You  invited  that  miser- 
able little  creature  into  my  house,  you  encouraged 
her  to  cross  my  doorstep,  I  heard  you  laughing  and 
talking  as  if  you  were  enjoying  yourself.  You  actu- 
ally gave  away  the  secret  about  Drivelford.  Come 
outside ! "  said  George,  as  if  he  meant  to  fight. 

"  I  mean  you  can't  believe  a  word  that  Highfield 
says,"  she  explained,  following  obediently.  "  That 
little  girl's  as  good  as  gold." 

"  To  begin  with,  who  is  she  ?  "  George  demanded, 
scowling  like  the  Dismal  Gibcat. 

"  That  is  more  than  I  can  tell  you.  She  told  me 
her  name  was  Christina  —  sometimes  Chrissie  —  but 
those  who  love  her  generally  call  her  Teenie." 

"What  did  she  want?" 

"  She  invited  me  to  tea  at  Black  Anchor  Farm  on 
Sunday.  She  also  promised  to  chaperon  me." 

"  The  infamous  urchin !  "  groaned  George. 

"  I  should  have  gone,"  she  said  steadily. 

"  Then  you  must  be  altogether  —  absolutely  wrong 
somewhere.  Go  there  to  tea!  Sit  opposite  that 
wicked  old  man,  beside  that  abandoned  youth,  and 
positively  touching  that  shameless  child  who  hasn't 
got  a  surname!  After  all  that  has  passed  between 


GEORGE  TAKES  CONTROL     297 

us,  after  all  your  promises  to  me,  after  all  that  I  have 
done  for  you  —  all  my  kindness  and  self-sacrifice  — 
you  would  drink  tea  out  of  their  teapot,  and  let  your- 
self be  talked  about  as  one  of  the  young  women  of 
Black  Anchor ! " 

"  My  suspicions  are  not  quite  gone.  But  directly 
I  saw  little  Miss  Christina  I  knew  the  horrible  things 
we  have  heard  are  all  lies.  She's  a  young  lady.  She 
goes  to  school  at  Cheltenham." 

"  That  makes  it  worse.  You  know  old  Brock  — 
he's  an  ordinary  labourer.  While  Sidney  is  a  com- 
mon young  fellow  who  can't  even  speak  English. 
They  are  not  fit  to  lick  the  polish  off  your  shoes." 

"  But  then  I  don't  want  the  polish  licked  off  my 
shoes;  it's  enough  trouble  putting  it  on.  I  do  not 
understand  the  Brocks,  and  I  can't  imagine  why  Miss 
Teenie  wouldn't  tell  me  her  whole  name.  If  I  could 
have  gone  to  Black  Anchor  on  Sunday,  I  might  have 
found  out  something." 

"  These  Dollies  and  Teenies,  and  painted  females, 
are  no  relations  of  such  common  chaps.  And  I  won't 
have  you  speaking  to  any  of  them." 

"  Really !  "  she  murmured  with  great  deliberation. 

"  No,  I  won't ;  and  they  are  not  to  write  either  — 
I  heard  something  about  the  post.  Just  suppose  you 
had  thrown  yourself  away  utterly,  suppose  you  had 
lowered  yourself  so  fearfully  as  to  have  got  engaged 


298  A  DRAKE  BY  GEORGE! 

to  this  Sidney  instead  of  to  a  Christian  gentleman  — 
how  awful  it  would  have  been ! " 

Nellie  changed  colour  and  gazed  significantly  at 
her  left  hand,  which  was  unadorned  by  any  lover's 
circlet. 

"  You  would  not  only  have  lost  me,  which  would 
have  been  bad  enough,  but  I  should  have  lost  the 
furniture,  all  my  dear  uncle's  precious  antiquities 
and  priceless  curios  — " 

"  Which  would  have  been  far  worse,"  she  added. 

"  It  would  have  been  dreadful.  Now  I  have  se- 
cured all  the  furniture  to  you  — " 

"I  did  that  for  myself;  I  got  it  from  Mr.  Ta- 
verner,"  she  interrupted. 

"  But  I  advised  Aunt  Sophy  to  make  her  will.  Of 
course  I  was  thinking  of  myself  —  we  must  do  that 
sometimes  —  but  I  was  quite  unselfish  in  the  matter. 
I  knew  if  the  furniture  was  left  to  you,  it  would  be 
the  same  as  —  as  — " 

"  Be  careful,  or  you'll  spoil  the  unselfishness,"  she 
broke  in  gently. 

"  Things  have  come  to  a  head  now,"  George  con- 
tinued. "  You  are  going  away  to-morrow,  and,  of 
course,  you  will  never  see  these  horrible  people  again. 
We  must  do  something,  Nellie  —  we  must  be  reckless, 
as  we  are  both  getting  on  in  life.  This  is  the  third 
of  September,  and  I  do  think  before  the  month  is  out 


GEORGE  TAKES  CONTROL     299 

we  ought  to  —  I  mean  something  should  be  done. 
Shall  we  settle  on  the  last  day  of  the  month?  I  have 
quite  made  up  my  mind  to  live  with  Aunt  Sophy ;  it 
will  be  good  for  her,  and  cheap  for  us." 

"  This  is  what  the  Americans  call  a  proposition," 
she  murmured. 

"  Then  when  she  dies,  there  will  be  the  furniture 
all  round  us.  And  Kezia  can  go  on  living  with  us, 
imagining  that  the  furniture  is  hers,  until  she  too 
departs  in  peace.  We  can  teach  Aunt  Sophy  how  to 
save  money,  and  show  her  how  to  invest  it  for  our 
benefit.  It  looks  to  me  as  if  we'd  got  the  future 
ready-made." 

"  Is  there  anything  very  serious  in  all  this  ?  "  she 
asked. 

"  Well,  it's  not  like  a  bad  illness,  or  any  great  dis- 
aster. It's  comfort,  happiness,  all  that  sort  of 
thing.  When  we  are  in  for  a  jolly  good  time,  we 
don't  regard  that  as  serious." 

"  But  what  is  to  happen  on  the  last  day  of  the 
month?" 

"  It  has  just  occurred  to  me  we  might  do  the  right 
thing  —  obviously  the  right  thing.  Don't  you  think 
so,  Nellie?  What's  the  good  of  waiting,  and  wearing 
ourselves  out  with  ceaseless  labour?  On  the  thirty- 
first  of  this  month,  the  last  of  summer,  let  us  make 
the  plunge." 


300  A  DRAKE  BY  GEORGE ! 

"  Do  you  mean  it?  "  she  asked,  with  a  queer  little 
laugh,  which  was  perhaps  a  trifle  spiteful;  but  then 
the  lover  was  so  very  callous. 

"  I  have  thought  over  it  a  great  many  times,  and 
I've  always  arrived  at  the  same  conclusion." 

"  But  what  do  you  want  me  to  do  on  the  thirty- 
first?  " 

"  To  go  to  church." 

"  I  go  every  Sunday." 

"  For  a  special  purpose." 

"  I  always  have  one." 

"  To  hear  the  service  read." 

"  Will  that  make  any  difference  to  me?  " 

"  Why,  of  course  it  will." 

"  It  will  change  my  present  B.  into  a  life- 
long D.?" 

"  That's  a  very  artistic  way  of  putting  it,"  said 
George,  rubbing  his  hands. 

"On  the  thirty-first?" 

"  It  will  suit  me  nicely." 

"  For  the  sake  of  peace  and  quietness  I  agree. 
But  I  want  you  to  promise  one  thing  —  don't  waste 
money  over  an  engagement-ring;  as,  if  you  do,  I 
won't  wear  it." 

"  That's  a  splendid  idea !  But  all  the  same,  Nel- 
lie, I  should  never  have  thought  of  going  to  any  ex- 
pense." 


GEORGE  TAKES  CONTROL  301 

"  You  are  so  economical.  It's  the  one  thing  I  like 
about  you." 

"  And  the  one  thing  I  like  about  you,"  said  George, 
not  to  be  outdone  in  compliments,  "  is  your  willing- 
ness to  listen  to  good  advice." 

They  parted,  with  quite  a  friendy  handshake. 
George  went  to  his  bed,  and  was  baked  so  soundly 
above  the  oven  that,  before  he  reached  Windward 
House  the  following  morning,  Miss  Yard  and  her  at- 
tendants had  departed. 


CHAPTER  XVII 

PLOUGHING    THE    GROUND 

KEZIA  had  locked  up  the  house  and  given  to 
Bessie  possession  of  the  keys ;  because  she 
had  always  been  left  in  charge  when  the 
family  departed  to  the  seaside,  having  received  her 
commission  as  holder  of  the  keys  from  Captain  Drake 
himself  in  the  days  when  she  was  growing.  Now 
there  was  a  husband  in  command,  and  one  who  held 
decided  views  regarding  property.  Robert  ex- 
pressed his  willingness  to  undertake  the  duties  of  cus- 
todian; but,  in  order  that  the  work  might  be  per- 
formed efficiently,  he  proposed  to  Bessie  that  they 
should  close  their  own  cottage  and  retire  into  lux- 
urious residence  across  the  road. 

So  when  George  called  at  his  own  house,  which  was 
occupied  by  caretakers  he  had  not  appointed,  the 
doors  were  locked  against  him.  He  was  not  refused 
admittance,  as  that  might  have  looked  like  an  un- 
friendly act ;  his  presence  was  simply  ignored. 
Robert,  smoking  in  the  parlour,  with  his  feet  upon  the 
sofa,  heard  the  knocking;  but  he  struck  another 

302 


PLOUGHING  THE  GROUND  303 

match  and  smiled.  Bessie,  who  was  preparing  the 
best  bedroom,  heard  the  ringing;  but  she  peeped  be- 
hind the  curtain  and  muttered,  "  Can't  have  him  in 
here  taking  things." 

George  retired  to  his  lodgings  and  stared  at  the 
framed  advertisements,  until  he  heard  Dyer  singing 
as  he  scoured  the  oven.  The  baker  had  been  heard 
to  declare  that,  if  he  had  not  known  how  to  sing,  he 
would  have  lost  his  senses  long  ago  owing  to  the 
fightings  and  despondings  which  beset  him.  As  a 
matter  of  fact  he  did  not  know  how  to  sing,  and  those 
who  listened  were  far  more  likely  to  lose  their  senses. 
George  descended,  assured  Dyer  it  was  a  sin  to  bake 
bread  with  a  voice  like  that,  and  went  on  to  inquire 
affectionately  after  the  business. 

"  Going  from  bad  to  worse,  sir,"  came  the  answer. 
Dyer  was  more  than  a  pessimist ;  he  was  not  content 
merely  to  look  on  the  dark  side  of  things,  but  asso- 
ciated himself  with  every  bit  of  shadow  he  could 
find. 

"  I  don't  see  how  that  can  be.  People  may  give 
up  meat,  they  may  reduce  their  clothing;  but  they 
must  have  bread,"  replied  George. 

"  But  they  don't  want  nearly  so  much  as  they  used 
to,"  said  Dyer  bitterly,  "  and  they  looks  at  anything 
nowadays  avore  they  takes  it.  When  I  started  busi- 
ness a  healthy  working  man  would  finish  off  two 
loaves  a  day;  and  one's  as  much  as  he  can  manage 


A  DRAKE  BY  GEORGE ! 

now.  The  human  race  ain't  improving,  sir;  'tis  dy- 
ing out,  I  fancy.  They  used  to  be  thankful  vor  any- 
thing I  sold  'em,  but  now  if  they  finds  a  button,  or 
a  beetle,  or  a  dead  mouse  in  the  bread  —  and  the 
dough  will  fall  over  on  the  floor  sometimes  —  they 
sends  the  loaf  back  and  asks  vor  another  gratis. 
And  the  population  is  dwindling  away  to  nought." 

"  According  to  the  census  — "  began  George. 

"  Don't  you  believe  in  censuses,"  cried  the  horri- 
fied Dyer.  "  That's  dirty  work,  sir.  Government 
has  a  hand  in  that.  If  me  and  you  wur  the  only  two 
left  in  Highfield  parish,  they'd  put  us  down,  sir,  as 
four  hundred  souls." 

"  You  have  a  big  sale  for  your  cakes  and  dough- 
nuts," George  suggested. 

"  I  loses  on  'em,"  said  the  dreary  Dyer. 

"  Then  why  do  you  make  them  ?  " 

"  I  suppose,  sir,  'tis  a  habit  I've  got  into." 

"  My  uncle  used  to  say  he  had  never  tasted  better 
cakes  than  yours." 

"  Captain  Drake  was  a  gentleman,  sir.  His  appe- 
tite belonged  to  the  old  school  what  be  passed  away 
vor  ever.  When  he  wur  alive  I  could  almost  make 
both  ends  meet.  But  he  gave  me  a  nasty  fright  once, 
when  he  got  telling  about  a  tree  what  grows  abroad 
—  bread-tree  he  called  it.  Told  me  volks  planted  it 
in  their  gardens,  and  picked  the  loaves  off  as  they 
wanted  'em.  'Twas  a  great  relief  to  my  mind  when 


PLOUGHING  THE  GROUND  305 

he  said  the  tree  wouldn't  be  a  commercial  success  in 
this  country  because  the  sun  ain't  hot  enough  to 
bake  the  bread.  Talking  about  gentlemen,  sir,  what 
do  you  think  of  the  Brocks  ?  " 

"  A  bad  lot,"  said  George,  wagging  his  head. 

"  Sure  enough !  They  make  their  own  bread," 
whispered  the  baker. 

"  I  didn't  know  they  went  so  far  as  that,"  replied 
the  properly  horrified  George. 

"  Some  volks  stick  at  nothing.  But  is  it  fair,  sir? 
How  be  struggling  tradesmen  to  escape  ruin  when 
volks  break  the  law  — " 

"  It's  not  illegal." 

"  There's  Government  again !  I  tell  ye  how  'tis, 
sir,  Government  means  to  get  rid  of  me,  though  I 
never  done  anything  worse  than  stop  my  ears  when 
parson  prays  vor  Parliament.  I  hates  Government, 
sir,  and  I  do  wish  it  wur  possible  to  vote  against  both 
parties.  If  I  wur  to  make  my  own  tobacco,  or  vizzy 
wine  such  as  rich  volk  drink  at  funerals,  they'd  put 
me  away  in  prison.  Why  ain't  it  illegal  vor  volks  to 
make  their  own  bread?  I'll  tell  ye  why,  sir:  'tis  be- 
cause Government  means  to  do  away  wi'  bakers. 
They  ha'  been  telling  a  lot  lately  about  encouraging 
home  industries,  and  that's  how  they  stir  up  volks 
to  ruin  we  tradesmen  by  making  all  they  want  at 
home." 

"  You  are  not  ruined  yet.     Robert  declares  you 


306  A  DRAKE  BY  GEORGE! 

are  the  richest  man  in  Highfield  —  not  that  I  believe 
much  he  says,"  George  remarked,  settling  down  to 
business. 

"  Quite  right,  sir.  I  ha'  learned  Robert  to  bake, 
but  I  can't  prevent  him  from  talking  childish.  He'd 
like  to  see  me  out  of  the  business,  so  that  he  could 
slip  into  the  ruins  of  it.  When  he  sees  I'm  the  rich- 
est man  in  the  village  he  means  the  poorest.  'Tis 
just  a  contrairy  way  of  talking.  Captain  Drake 
often  looked  in  to  tell  wi'  me  —  out  of  gratitude  vor 
my  doughnuts  what  helped  him  to  sleep,  he  said  — 
'twur  avore  he  died  so  sharp  like." 

"  I  guessed  as  much,"  said  George. 

"  And  he  used  to  tell  me,  if  you  wanted  to  make 
a  man  real  angry  you  had  only  to  say  the  opposite 
of  what  you  meant  in  the  most  polite  language  you 
could  find.  He  told  Robert  the  like,  I  fancy." 

"  My  uncle  generally  found  the  soft  answer  a 
success,"  said  George.  "  He  told  me  once  how  an- 
other captain  once  called  him  '  a  bullying  old  scoun- 
drel with  a  face  like  a  lobster-salad,'  and  he  replied, 
*  You're  a  ewe-lamb.'  The  other  man  got  madder 
than  ever  though,  as  my  uncle  said,  you  can't  find 
anything  much  softer  than  a  ewe-lamb.  But  Robert 
isn't  always  calling  you  a  rich  man.  He's  in  our 
kitchen  every  evening,  and  he  talks  pretty  freely  when 
he  has  a  drop  of  cocoa  in  him." 

"  He  ain't  got  nothing  against  me.     Me  and  the 


PLOUGHING  THE  GROUND  307 

missus  ha'  been  a  father  to  him,"  said  the  baker,  with 
suspicious  alacrity. 

"  He  thinks  he  has  a  grievance." 

"  Then  I  suppose  he's  still  worrying  over  his 
honeymoon.  A  man  what's  been  married  years  and 
years  ought  to  be  thinking  of  his  future  state  and  his 
old-age  pension.  He  might  as  well  be  asking  vor  his 
childhood  back  again." 

"  He  says  you  cheated  him  out  of  his  honeymoon," 
said  George,  who  knew  the  story:  how  Dyer's  wed- 
ding-present to  his  assistant  had  been  leave  of  ab- 
sence, without  pay,  from  Saturday  to  Monday ; 
coupled  with  a  promise  of  a  week's  holiday,  with  half- 
pay,  at  some  future  date  when  business  might  be 
slack ;  which  promise  belonged  to  that  fragile  order  of 
assurances  declaimed  so  loudly  at  election  time. 

"  'Tis  a  lot  too  late  now,"  said  the  baker. 

"  I  suppose  a  deferred  honeymoon  is  better  than 
none  at  all,"  George  remarked.  "  Anyhow,  Robert 
and  his  wife  are  grumbling  a  good  bit  and,  as  I'm 
staying  here,  they  asked  me  to  remind  you  of  your 
promise,  business  being  very  slack  at  present." 

"  I  ha'  never  known  it  to  be  anything  else,  but  'tis 
funny  it  should  be  picking  up  a  little  just  now.  I 
got  a  big  order  vor  cakes  this  morning,  as  there's  a 
school-treat  next  week.  Me  and  Robert  will  be  kept 
very  busy  all  this  month  —  but  it's  a  losing  business. 
There's  no  profit  in  cakes,  nor  yet  in  bread.  There 


308  A  DRAKE  BY  GEORGE! 

used  to  be  a  profit  in  doughnuts,  but  that's  gone 
now." 

The  cautious  George  said  no  more,  being  content 
with  the  knowledge  that  he  had  given  Dyer  something 
to  worry  about.  The  baker  would  certainly  not 
mention  the  matter  so  long  as  Robert  kept  silent ; 
and  Robert  had  probably  forgotten  all  about  the 
promise,  although  many  months  back  George  had 
overheard  him  assuring  Bessie  it  would  be  time  to 
think  of  a  new  dress  when  master's  wedding-present 
came  along. 

"  One  thing  is  certain :  nobody  can  get  the  better 
of  me,"  George  chuckled  as  he  left  the  bakehouse. 
"  I  beat  Hunter  at  his  own  game,  I  diddled  Crampy 
in  his,  I  scared  Percy  out  of  the  country  —  at  least 
that's  my  belief  —  and  now  I'm  going  to  make  old 
Dyer  set  a  trap  to  catch  the  furniture-snatchers." 

The  Mudges,  unsuspecting  treachery,  were  glitter- 
ing like  two  stars  of  fashion ;  Robert  lolling  at  ease  in 
the  parlour  until  Bessie  summoned  him  to  supper  in 
the  dining-room.  If  it  was  their  duty  to  look  after 
the  house,  it  was  also  their  pleasure  to  take  care  of 
themselves.  They  did  not  regard  George  as  either 
friend  or  enemy ;  they  despised  and  pitied  a  poor  fel- 
low who  possessed  no  visible  means  of  support,  while 
attributing  his  presence  in  Highfield  to  a  cat-like 
habit  of  returning  to  a  house  which  might  have  been 
his  had  he  behaved  with  propriety. 


PLOUGHING  THE  GROUND  309 

The  only  person  they  feared  was  Kezia,  who  cer- 
tainly did  appear  to  have  almost  as  much  right  to 
the  Captain's  furniture  as  themselves.  This  sus- 
picion was  in  Robert's  mind  when,  the  shutters  hav- 
ing been  closed  and  the  lamps  lighted,  he  stood  beside 
the  round  table  upon  which  were  spread  various 
scraps  of  paper  beginning  to  show  signs  of  wear  and 
tear. 

"  If  we  takes  all  that  Mrs.  Drake  sees  we'm  to  have, 
what  do  Kezia  get  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  Not  much,"  replied  Bessie. 

"  If  Kezia  takes  all  the  things  Mrs.  Drake  said  she 
could  have,  what  do  we  get?  "  continued  Robert. 

"  Nought,"  said  Bessie. 

"  When  property  be  left  this  way,  volks  sometimes 
share  and  share  alike;  or  they  sells  the  stuff,  and 
each  takes  half  the  money,"  continued  Robert. 

"  Kezia  won't  neither  sell  nor  share.  She'll  bide 
quiet  till  Miss  Sophy  dies,  and  then  she'll  see  a  law- 
yer," declared  Bessie. 

"  Our  bits  o'  paper  are  as  gude  as  hers." 

"  Kezia  would  sooner  lose  everything  than  see  us 
take  any  little  old  bit  of  stuff.  She'm  a  spiteful 
toad."  " 

"  The  nicest  thing  we  can  do,  Bess,  is  to  go  on 
shifting,  one  bit  now  and  agin.  Kezia  won't  notice 
nothing,  if  us  takes  'em  gradual." 

"  Where  can  us  hide  them?  "  asked  Bessie.     "  We 


310  A  DRAKE  BY  GEORGE ! 

can't  put  Jem  over  in  the  cottage.  Kezia  ain't  such 
a  vule  as  you  think.  If  I  wur  to  take  a  kitchen  spune 
she'd  miss  it." 

"  She  never  found  out  about  the  last  lot,"  Robert 
reminded  her. 

"  Policeman  went  away  sudden  and  forgot  to  tell 
her.  We'll  have  to  shift  those  things,  vor  rainy 
weather'll  be  starting  soon,  and  that  musical-box 
will  spoil  inside  the  peatstack." 

"  I'll  get  'em  out  avore  they  comes  back  home ;  I 
b'ain't  ashamed  of  claiming  what  be  rightly  ours.  I 
told  policeman  we'd  took  what  belonged  to  us,  and  he 
said  'twas  all  right  this  time,  but  us  mustn't  do  it  too 
often.  I'm  going  to  shift  a  few  more  pieces  across 
the  way  in  a  day  or  two." 

"  Best  wait  till  Miss  Sophy  dies,"  said  Bessie 
nervously. 

"We'll  let  the  big  furniture  bide  till  then. 
Where's  Miss  Sophy  going  to  be  buried?  " 

"  Somewhere  in  London,  she  ses.  Said  she 
wouldn't  be  buried  here  if  they  paid  her  vor  it." 

"That's  got  it!"  cried  Robert.  "When  Kezia 
goes  to  the  funeral,  I'll  shift  the  furniture." 

"  Don't  that  seem  like  trying  to  get  the  better  of 
her?" 

"  Ain't  she  trying  to  deprive  us  of  our  rightful 
property?  Don't  she  want  to  see  me  and  you  cut  off 
wi'  a  fry-pan  ?  See  what's  wrote  on  this  paper  — 


PLOUGHING  THE  GROUND  311 

*  I  want  Bessie  to  have  all  the  furniture  in  the  spare 
bedroom.'  And  on  this  one  — '  all  the  furniture  in 
the  dining-room.'  And  on  this  here  — '  all  the  stuff 
in  the  kitchen.'  Ain't  that  clear?  " 

"  Sure  enough,"  said  Bessie. 

"  Then  there's  the  house  and  garden ;  worth  a 
thousand  pounds,  I  reckon." 

"  It  seems  as  how  Mrs.  Drake  never  left  the  place 
to  no  one,  unless  it  wur  to  Miss  Sophy.  But,  I  tell 
je,  Kezia  means  to  have  it." 

"  Parson  had  best  keep  his  eyes  open,  or  she'll  slip 
off  wi'  the  church,"  said  Robert  grimly. 

"  If  Miss  Sophy  ha'  got  it,  'tis  only  vor  her  life. 
She  can't  keep  it  afterwards,"  explained  Bessie. 
"  So  Nellie  can't  get  it,  and  Mr.  George  ain't  to  have 
nothing,  and  I'll  watch  Kezia  don't  have  it,  though  I 
wouldn't  mind  letting  her  the  attic  where  they  keeps 
the  boxes." 

"  What  about  Mr.  Percy !  " 

"  Well,  there !  I  never  thought  of  him.  But  the 
house  belonged  to  Captain  Drake,  and  he  didn't  like 
Mr.  Percy,  so  it  don't  seem  right  the  place  should  go 
to  him." 

"  Mr.  George  would  know." 

"  'Tis  him,  I  fancy,  who's  been  knocking  such  a 
lot,"  said  Bessie. 

"  Go  and  let  'en  in,"  directed  Robert.  "  He  can't 
do  us  any  harm,  and  he  may  do  us  a  bit  of  gude." 


312  A  DRAKE  BY  GEORGE! 

Bessie  obeyed,  and  George  entered,  beaming  in  the 
most  sunny  fashion,  assuring  the  Mudges  he  too  had 
frequently  been  deluded  into  the  belief  that  a  loose 
branch  had  been  tapping  against  the  door,  when  in 
reality  somebody  was  knocking  and  ringing.  It  was 
a  mistake,  he  thought,  to  plant  umbrageous  peren- 
nials so  close  to  the  front  doorstep,  which  had  been 
nicely  purified  since  Miss  Teenie  stood  upon  it. 
Their  plan  of  acting  the  part  of  caretakers  with  the 
thoroughness  of  ownership  he  commended  highly ;  as, 
with  autumn  approaching,  it  was  necessary  to  keep 
the  house  warm  and  the  furniture  dry ;  and  the  only 
satisfactory  Way  of  doing  so  was  for  Robert  to  smoke 
his  pipe  in  the  parlour  while  Bessie  reclined  upon  the 
easy  chairs  which,  he  went  on  to  suggest,  would  be 
her  own  some  day. 

"  Us  might  as  well  take  t'em  now  as  wait  vor  'em, 
Robert  ses,"  replied  Bessie,  delighted  at  the  geniality 
of  her  visitor.  "  Won't  you  sit  down,  Mr.  George, 
and  make  yourself  comfortable?  I  was  surprised  to 
hear  you  had  gone  to  Mrs.  Dyer's.  I'd  have  asked 
ye  to  come  here,  if  I'd  known  you  wur  going  to 
stay." 

"  Thank  you  very  much,"  said  George  simply. 
"  I  should  have  been  far  more  comfortable  here ;  but 
I  am  not  making  a  long  stay,  and  I  felt  sure  you 
would  be  wanting  to  turn  out  these  rooms." 

"  Kezia  said  you  weren't  coming  back  again,"  ob- 


PLOUGHING  THE  GROUND  313 

served  Robert,  hoping  to  obtain  raw  material  for 
gossip. 

"  What  do  she  know?  "  snapped  Bessie. 

"  Nothing,"  replied  George.  "  I  had  to  come  back 
on  business  in  connection  with  the  railway.  You  see, 
I'm  civil  engineer  to  the  company,  and  I  have  to 
prepare  a  report." 

"  They  did  say  you  had  given  up  the  railway," 
remarked  Bessie,  beginning  to  understand  the  polite- 
ness of  George's  manner,  although  she  did  not  know 
why  engineers  had  to  be  more  civil  than  other  people. 

"  That  railway  has  been  in  the  air  a  long  time,  but 
I  shall  never  rest  until  I've  made  it,"  said  George  with 
energy.  "  Everything  is  arranged  now  except  a  few 
preliminary  details,  such  as  issuing  the  prospectus, 
collecting  the  money,  and  obtaining  of  Parliamentary 
powers.  I  have  an  idea  of  turning  this  garden  into 
the  terminus,  and  making  the  house  the  station.  This 
will  make  a  good  waiting-room,  while  the  dining-room 
can  be  converted  into  the  booking-office.  The  sta- 
tion-master and  his  family  can  live  upstairs.  I  shall 
be  station-master,  as  well  as  general  manager." 

Bessie  gulped  and  Robert  whistled. 

"  Your  cottage  will  do  for  a  goods'  station.  I 
shall  build  a  platform  round  it,  put  up  a  crane  — " 

"  What  about  the  street?  "  cried  Robert. 

"  I  shall  divert  that,  if  necessary.  If  I  find  the 
church  is  in  my  way,  it  must  come  down." 


314  A  DRAKE  BY  GEORGE! 

"  But  you  won't  start  till  Miss  Sophy  dies.  Mrs, 
Drake  said  nothing  wur  to  happen  till  Miss  Sophy 
died,"  said  Bessie. 

"  We  can't  possibly  wait  for  her.  We  have  got  to 
make  progress,"  replied  George  firmly. 

"  What  about  Mr.  Percy  ? "  asked  the  crafty 
Robert. 

"  What  has  he  got  to  do  with  our  affairs  ?  " 

"Ain't  he  to  have  the  house  and  garden?  " 

"  The  whole  of  this  property  belongs  to  me,  and 
Miss  Sophy  is  my  tenant,"  replied  the  far  more 
crafty  George ;  for  this  was  the  question  he  had  been 
leading  up  to. 

"  Kezia  won't  have  it  anyhow,"  Robert  muttered 
with  satisfaction,  removing  his  boots  from  the  sofa. 
He  wanted  to  go  out  into  the  village  and  talk. 

"  You  never  did  tell  us  much  about  that  paper 
what  Mrs.  Drake  left  vor  you,"  said  Bessie  reproach- 
fully. 

"  It  was  just  an  ordinary  will,  leaving  me  some 
money  and  the  house.  She  couldn't  deprive  me  of 
that,  as  the  property  belonged  to  my  uncle,  and  he 
made  her  promise  I  should  have  it.  If  you  don't 
believe  me,  you  can  ask  Miss  Blisland,"  George  added 
lightly. 

"  Of  course  we  believes  you.  I  always  thought  it 
funny  Mrs.  Drake  shouldn't  have  left  you  nothing," 
said  Bessie. 


PLOUGHING  THE  GROUND  315 

"  What  do  you  think  she  meant  to  do  about  the 
furniture,  sir?  "  asked  Robert  boldly. 

"  Ah,  that's  a  troublesome  question,"  said  George 
cautiously. 

"  I  fancy  she  meant  to  leave  half  to  Kezia  and  half 
to  me ;  but  she  wur  such  a  kind-hearted  lady  that 
she  left  all  of  it  to  both  of  us,"  observed  Bessie. 

"  Not  all  —  tell  the  truth,  Bess.  We  ain't  going 
to  claim  what  don't  belong  to  us.  She  never  left  you 
the  carpet  on  the  stairs,  nor  yet  the  old  bed  in  the 
attic,"  said  Robert  severely. 

"  You  can't  be  too  honest  in  business,  and  that 
means,  if  you  are  too  honest,  some  one  else  will  get 
the  better  of  you,"  said  George.  "  If  Mrs.  Drake 
had  left  the  furniture  to  Mr.  Taverner  and  myself, 
as  she  has  left  it  to  Kezia  and  you  — " 

"  What  would  you  ha'  done,  sir  ?  "  asked  Robert 
eagerly. 

"  I  should  have  looked  after  my  own  interests," 
George  answered,  as  he  reached  for  his  hat. 

The  Mudges  escorted  him  to  the  door  of  his  own 
house,  and  hoped  he  would  look  in  any  time  he  was 
passing. 

"  It's  right  about  the  house,"  said  Robert,  as  he 
too  reached  for  his  hat.  "  And  it's  right  about  the 
railway.  I  know  Captain  Drake  meant  to  build  it; 
he  talked  a  lot  about  it,  and  he  brought  gentlemen 
down  to  look  round  the  place;  they  pretended  to  be 


316  A  DRAKE  BY  GEORGE! 

fishing,  but  we  knew  what  they  wur  up  to.  Mr. 
George  ain't  clever  like  his  uncle.  He  made  a  vule 
of  hisself  when  he  said  the  American  gentleman  come 
here  to  buy  a  pair  of  vases  —  all  the  way  from  Amer- 
ica to  buy  a  bit  o'  cloam!  Everybody  knew  he'd 
come  about  the  railway.  Mr.  George  ain't  clever  — 
that's  a  sure  thing.  He  can't  talk  so  as  to  deceive  a 
child.  'Twas  the  American  gentleman  what  put  him 
up  to  the  idea  o'  turning  this  house  into  the  ter- 
minus. He  would  never  ha'  thought  of  it." 


CHAPTER  XVIII 

SOWING    THE    SEED 

NEXT  morning  George  invited  the  dreary 
Dyer  to  step  into  the  parlour  with  a  view 
to  continuing  the  diplomatic  conversation 
commenced  the  previous  day.  The  baker  responded 
with  a  certain  amount  of  trepidation,  as  he  thought 
it  possible  Mr.  Drake  might  desire  to  buy  a  share  in 
the  business,  and  he  did  not  at  all  relish  the  idea  of 
confessing  that  the  profits  were  considerable.  His 
relief,  therefore,  was  only  equalled  by  his  amazement 
when  George  inquired: 

"Did  you  ever  buy  a  penny  weekly  journal,  Mr. 
Dyer?" 

"  Never  in  my  life,  sir,"  replied  the  baker. 

"  Then  you  know  nothing  about  picture-puzzles  ?  " 

"  Never  heard  of  'em  avore,  sir." 

"A  penny  weekly  journal  exists  upon  its  picture- 
puzzles,"  George  continued.  "  The  last  time  I  went 
away  I  bought  one  of  these  papers.  The  competi- 
tion interested  me,  as  the  pictures  represented  the 
names  of  certain  railway  stations,  and  that's  a  sub- 
ject I  know  as  much  about  as  any  man  in  England." 

317 


318  A  DRAKE  BY  GEORGE ! 

"  I  don't  know  as  I  quite  get  your  meaning,"  said 
the  baker. 

"  I'll  explain.  Suppose  the  picture  is  intended  to 
represent  Marylebone.  You  may  be  shown  a  draw- 
ing of  a  little  girl  eating  a  mutton-chop.  Of  course, 
you  are  expected  to  have  some  brains." 

"  I  wouldn't  use  mine  vor  such  a  purpose,"  said  the 
baker  somewhat  sharply. 

"  It's  quite  simple  when  you've  got  the  trick.  You 
have  to  assume  the  little  girl's  name  is  Mary,  and  le 
is  French  for  the,  and  there's  more  bone  than  any- 
thing else  in  a  mutton-chop.  Well,  I  went  in  for  this 
competition,  and  I've  won  second-prize.  I  don't 
know  why  I  didn't  get  the  first,  but  perhaps  that  was 
suppressed  for  economic  reasons." 

"  I  suppose  it  would  be  the  same  sort  of  thing  as  a 
flower-show,"  suggested  Dyer.  "  I  got  second-prize 
for  carrots  once.  It  should  ha'  been  half  a  crown, 
but  they  ran  short  o'  money,  so  I  got  only  eighteen- 
pence,  and  I  never  showed  again." 

"  My  prize  was  worth  winning,"  said  George,  who 
had  really  received  a  solatium  of  ten  shillings.  "  It 
was  fifty  pounds." 

Dyer  repeated  the  amount,  firstly  as  a  shout  of 
admiration,  secondly  as  a  whisper  of  coveteousness ; 
then  he  released  all  kinds  of  exclamations  for  some 
moments ;  and  presently  observed  with  emotion : 

"  Education  does  it,  sir !     If  I  could  ha'  gone  to  a 


SOWING  THE  SEED  319 

big  school,  and  to  the  University,  I  might  ha'  gone  in 
vor  them  pictures  too.  Little  gal  eating  a  mutton- 
chop  —  well  done,  sir !  They'm  nought  but  bone  as 
you  ses.  You  found  out  her  name  wur  Mary,  and 
you  talked  French,  and  you  learned  all  about  the  rail- 
ways. Ah,  that's  wonderful!  But  I  fancy,  sir,  you 
must  ha'  used  a  map." 

"  I  did  it  by  skill  entirely,  but  of  course  I  had  an 
advantage  over  my  competitors  owing  to  my  con- 
nection with  the  railways.  Now  you  are  wondering 
why  I'm  telling  you  this  ?  " 

"  We  all  knows  you  does  business  in  railways,"  said 
Dyer  absently. 

"  I  find  myself  with  a  large  sum  of  money,  and  I 
mean  to  make  a  good  use  of  it.  I  propose  spending 
the  whole  amount  in  giving  happiness  to  others ;  but 
I  want  to  do  it  unobtrusively.  I  intend  to  give  a 
meat  tea  to  the  old  folk  of  this  parish,  but  I  shall 
hand  the  money  to  the  vicar  and  request  him  to  keep 
my  name  out  of  it." 

"  Perhaps,  sir,  you'm  a-paying  vor  the  cakes  or- 
dered yesterday,"  cried  Dyer. 

"  Don't  mention  the  matter,"  said  George. 

"  You  can  trust  me,  sir." 

"  Another  thing  I  am  anxious  to  do  is  to  give  the 
Mudges  a  real  good  holiday.  That's  what  I  wanted 
to  see  you  about,  Mr.  Dyer.  I  know  you  wish  to 
keep  your  promise  —  about  the  wedding-present,  you 


320  A  DRAKE  BY  GEORGE ! 

know  —  but,  of  course,  you  can't  afford  it.  My 
idea  is  to  send  them  away  for  a  week  to  the  seaside. 
Bessie  served  my  uncle  and  aunt  faithfully  for  a  num- 
ber of  years,  while  Robert  was  always  ready  to  make 
himself  useful  in  the  house ;  but  I've  done  nothing  for 
either  of  them.  We  could  give  them  the  best  week  of 
their  lives  for  five  pounds." 

"  Did  you  say  anything  about  me,  sir  ?  "  asked  the 
baker. 

"  Yes,  because  I  felt  sure  you  would  insist  upon 
contributing  something,  though  I  should  like  them 
to  think  the  whole  amount  comes  from  you.  Sup- 
pose I  give  three  pounds.  You  can  make  up  the 
other  two." 

"  Can't  be  done,  sir.  Can't  possibly  be  done.  Be- 
sides, sir,  business  is  looking  up,  owing  to  your  gen- 
erosity, and  I  can't  spare  Robert." 

"  It  will  give  you  a  splendid  reputation  for  liber- 
ality. Everybody  in  the  parish  will  know  you  have 
given  the  Mudges  five  pounds  and  a  week's  leave  of 
absence." 

"  I  works  vor  my  reputation,  sir.  Two  pounds 
would  ruin  me.  I  can't  tell  ye  how  bad  things  be; 
I'd  be  ashamed  to  speak  the  truth,  sir ;  I  don't  hardly 
like  to  think  on  it.  Often,  when  missus  fancies  I'm 
asleep,  she  has  a  gude  cry.  She  knows  we  can't  pay 
five  shillings  in  the  pound  if  miller  wur  to  call  vor 
what  us  owes  'en." 


SOWING  THE  SEED  321 

"  I'll  subscribe  four  pounds,  if  you  will  give  the 
other,"  said  George. 

"  Where  would  I  get  a  pound  from?  "  asked  Dyer, 
more  drearily  than  ever.  "  I'd  have  to  borrow,  or 
sell  the  bed  I  tries  to  sleep  on,  but  can't  vor  all  the 
trouble.  A  sovereign,  sir,  is  more  to  me  than  to 
any  one  else  in  this  parish." 

"  I've  heard  that  before,  and  I  believe  it." 

"  And  it's  the  truth.  Twenty  shillings  might  make 
the  difference  between  pulling  down  the  blinds  to-day, 
or  keeping  'em  up  till  next  week." 

"  Will  you  give  ten  shillings  ?  "  George  inquired 
desperately. 

The  baker  shook  his  head  like  one  in  pain,  mut- 
tering something  about  last  straws  and  poor-relief. 

"  Will  you  give  anything?  " 

"  Well,  sir,  to  show  my  heart's  in  the  right  place 
I'll  sacrifice  a  shilling.  I'll  grab  it  from  the  till 
when  missus  ain't  looking." 

"  Here  is  the  money,"  said  George,  counting  out 
five  sovereigns.  "  You  had  better  see  Robert  at 
once:  tell  him  to  get  away  to-morrow.  This  is  Sep- 
tember, and  fine  weather  may  break  any  day." 

Such  a  rush  of  philanthropy  numbed  the  baker's 
faculties ;  but  even  in  that  semi-paralysed  condition 
he  remained  a  man  of  business.  His  fingers  closed 
upon  the  coins,  his  feet  carried  him  to  the  door ;  then 
he  turned  back  to  face  this  benefactor,  who  was 


A  DRAKE  BY  GEORGE ! 

shedding  sovereigns  in  the  reckless  fashion  of  a  tree 
casting  its  autumnal  leaves.  The  old  folk  were  to 
be  provided  with  a  meat  tea ;  the  Mudges  were  to  be 
given  a  week  at  the  seaside;  the  donor  was  to  re- 
main anonymous.  Dyer  in  all  his  dreariness  could 
not  understand  why  Mr.  Drake  should  desire  to  bene- 
fit his  fellow-creatures  at  all ;  but,  more  than  that, 
he  was  actually  proposing  to  do  good  stealthily. 
Where  then  was  the  advertisement? 

"  It's  a  lot  of  money,  sir.  You  could  buy  a  bit  of 
land  vor  this,"  he  said  at  last. 

"  I  do  not  require  any  land,"  George  answered. 

"  You  don't  get  any  profit  so  far  as  I  can  see," 
the  baker  proceeded. 

"  I  am  helping  you  to  give  Robert  and  Bessie  the 
first  real  holiday  they  have  ever  known ;  I  am  ena- 
bling you  to  keep  your  promise;  and  I  am  enjoying 
the  satisfaction  of  performing  an  unselfish  action." 

"  'Tis  there  I'm  beat.  Why  don't  ye  give  the 
money  to  Robert,  and  tell  'en  'tis  a  present  from 
me  and  you  ?  " 

"  I  will,  if  you  like,  and  tell  him  your  share  is  one 
shilling." 

Dyer  again  moved  towards  the  door;  but  still  he 
hesitated. 

"  They  could  do  it  on  less  than  five  pounds,  sir." 

"  Give  them  four,  then,  and  keep  the  other  sover- 


SOWING  THE  SEED  323 

eign  for  yourself,"  George  replied,  breaking  out  into 
bribery. 

"  What  about  the  shilling?  "  asked  Dyer  eagerly. 

"  I'll  let  you  off  that." 

The  baker  became  a  reformed  character  at  once. 
He  did  not  profess  to  understand  Mr.  Drake's  ex- 
traordinary conduct,  but  he  was  quite  willing  to  ben- 
efit by  the  eccentricities  of  any  man.  His  meanness 
had  become  a  by-word  in  the  parish.  Now  Mr. 
Drake  was  offering  to  purchase  him  a  reputation  for 
generosity,  which  was  almost  as  good  as  an  annuity, 
and  was  giving  him  a  sovereign  for  himself.  Dyer 
was  not  the  man  to  shrink  from  duty  that  was  profit- 
able. 

"  You're  the  son  of  your  uncle,  sir,"  he  said  with 
feeling. 

"  I  have  always  set  his  example  before  me,"  re- 
plied George. 

"  I'll  spare  Robert  a  week  from  to-morrow.  Don't 
ye  think,  sir,  four  pounds  are  a  bit  too  much?  " 

"  I  couldn't  let  them  do  it  on  less,"  said  George 
firmly. 

"  And  you  don't  want  me  to  tell  'em  part  of  the 
money  comes  from  you  ?  " 

"  I  want  them  to  think  you  are  keeping  your 
promise." 

The  baker  retired,  muttering,  "  He  wants  to  get 


A  DRAKE  BY  GEORGE ! 

'em  out  of  Highfield  House  vor  certain.  But  that 
don't  matter  to  me  so  long  as  I  get  my  profit." 

George  went  for  a  long  walk  to  refresh  himself, 
not  bothering  about  his  popularity  any  longer,  as 
he  was  contemplating  an  act  which  would  make  fu- 
ture residence  in  Highfield  impossible;  but  he  met 
the  Wallower  in  Wealth,  who  demanded  his  musical- 
box;  and  the  Dumpy  Philosopher,  who  put  search- 
ing questions  concerning  the  railway  and  the  amount 
of  compensation  for  wounded  feelings  he  was  likely 
to  receive;  and  the  Yellow  Leaf,  who  had  just  lost 
his  wife  and  was  going  courting.  Returning,  during 
the  late  afternoon,  he  stopped  at  his  own  house, 
knocked,  but  received  no  answer  from  that  side  of 
the  street.  Bessie  looked  out  from  the  cottage  win- 
dow opposite  and  invited  him  to  step  in  that  direc- 
tion. 

"Have  ye  heard  the  news,  Mr.  George?"  she 
whispered  excitedly.  "  Master  ha'  given  Robert 
three  pounds  and  a  week." 

"  Three  pounds !  "  cried  George  fiercely. 

"  Us  can't  make  any  one  believe  it.  Three  solid 
sovereigns,  sir !  Robert  ha'  got  teethache  through 
biting  'em." 

"  I  am  not  surprised,"  said  George.  "  Dyer  has 
been  left  a  lot  of  money  —  he  told  me  yesterday. 
An  uncle,  who  went  to  New  Zealand  years  ago,  has 


SOWING  THE  SEED  325 

just  died  and  left  him  thousands.  He  can  buy  up 
the  whole  village  if  he  wants  to." 

"  Master  never  told  Robert  he'd  been  left  money. 
He  gave  'en  the  sovereigns  and  said  'twas  a  reward 
vor  the  way  Robert  had  worked.  Couldn't  spare  'em, 
he  said,  but  his  conscience  worried  him.  They  do 
say  the  Dyers  ha'  never  given  away  anything  avore 
'cept  the  water  what  they  boiled  their  cabbage  in." 

"  When  are  you  off?  " 

"  First  thing  to-morrow.  We'm  going  to  my 
home,  so  it  won't  cost  nothing  'cept  the  railway.  I'm 
getting  our  things  together  now." 

"Where's  Robert?" 

"  Going  round  wi'  the  bread  —  that's  him  a-whis- 
tling.  He'm  fair  mazed,  Mr.  George." 

"  Who  is  to  take  care  of  the  house?  " 

"  I'll  lock  it  up  and  take  the  keys  away  wi'  me. 
Why  shouldn't  us  go?  No  one  won't  go  near  the 
house,  wi'  you  and  policeman  about." 

"  I  think  you  ought  to  wait  until  Miss  Yard  comes 
back,"  said  George,  who  knew  enough  about  women 
to  be  aware  how  the  spirit  of  opposition  acts  upon 
them. 

"  And  lose  our  holiday !  The  only  real  holiday 
we've  had,  and  the  chance  to  see  my  folks  again. 
Not  likely,  Mr.  George !  If  we  don't  go  to-morrow, 
master  will  ask  vor  them  three  sovereigns  back  again. 


326  A  DRAKE  BY  GEORGE! 

How  did  you  manage  to  find  out  he'd  been  left  all  this 
money  ?  " 

"  I  was  talking  with  him  yesterday  and  —  it  just 
slipped  out.  You  will  hear  more  when  you  come 
back." 

"  I'll  make  Robert  ask  'en  vor  a  rise.  How  long 
be  you  staying,  Mr.  George?  " 

"  I  might  be  here  when  you  return  or,  on  the  other 
hand,  I  might  go  to-morrow.  Do  you  want  me  to 
take  charge  of  the  keys  ?  " 

"  Somebody  ought  to  go  in  and  open  the  win- 
dows." 

"  I  don't  mind  doing  you  a  favour.  If  I'm  called 
away  I  will  leave  the  keys  with  Mrs.  Dyer." 

"  Not  wi'  she.  Leave  'em  wi'  Mrs.  Cann  to  the 
post-office.  You  come  this  evening,  and  I'll  give  ye 
the  keys." 

"  All  right,"  said  George.  "  But  you  know  I 
don't  approve  of  your  going  after  having  been  left 
in  charge." 

"  If  I  don't  go,  Robert  will,  and  he  ain't  going 
home  without  me,"  said  Bessie.  "  I  wouldn't  like 
leaving  if  Kezia  wur  here,  vor  I'd  dread  her  selling 
some  of  my  things;  but  Robert  ha'  told  the  volks 
the  house  belongs  to  you,  so  there's  no  fear  of  any 
one  breaking  in,  unless  it  be  the  Brocks.  Policeman 
ha'  promised  to  keep  his  eye  on  them." 

George  went  on  to  punish  the  baker,  who  had  sue- 


SOWING  THE  SEED  327 

ceeded  with  grievous  pangs  in  handing  over  three 
sovereigns,  but  had  failed  in  his  endeavour  to  part 
with  the  fourth.  Dyer  affirmed  Robert  had  lied,  by 
no  means  for  the  first  time ;  but,  when  George  threat- 
ened to  call  the  Mudges  that  they  might  give  evi- 
dence upon  oath,  Dyer  admitted  it  was  just  possible 
the  missing  coin  might  have  slipped  through  a  hole 
in  his  pocket ;  so  he  called  his  wife  to  light  a  candle 
and  to  sweep  the  floor.  The  elusive  piece  of  gold, 
however,  had  passed  entirely  out  of  vision,  although 
neither  of  the  Dyers  could  feel  surprised  at  that ;  the 
lady  declaring  it  was  wonderful  how  easily  things 
lost  themselves ;  while  her  husband  said  he  had  done 
nothing  except  drop  money  all  his  life. 

"  Very  well,  Mrs.  Dyer,"  said  George.  "  When 
you  make  up  my  bill  for  lodgings  and  bread-puddings, 
just  remember  that  you  owe  me  a  pound." 

"  You  wouldn't  think  of  such  a  thing.  You'm  too 
much  of  a  gentleman,"  cried  Mrs.  Dyer. 

"  The  missus  fancies  you  meant  it,  sir.  She  ain't 
very  humorous,"  explained  the  baker. 

George  had  a  trick  of  nodding  after  supper,  and 
that  evening  he  did  not  wake  until  it  was  nearly  time 
to  sleep  more  seriously.  Remembering  that  Bessie 
would  be  sitting  up  to  surrender  the  keys,  he  hur- 
ried out ;  but  when  he  entered  Windward  House  mod- 
estly by  the  back-door  —  hoping  to  overhear  some 
scraps  of  conversation  —  the  house  appeared  de- 


328  A  DRAKE  BY  GEORGE! 

serted,  until  he  pushed  open  the  kitchen-door,  to  dis- 
cover the  Wallower  in  Wealth  sipping  a  cup  of  some- 
thing hot  beside  the  fire. 

"  Where  are  the  Mudges  ?  "  cried  George. 

"Where's  my  musical-box?"  retorted  the  man  in 
possession. 

George  had  made  a  rule  never  to  use  bad  language ; 
by  an  exception  then  he  proved  the  rule's  existence. 
Some  men  are  frightened  when  sworn  at  because  they 
never  know  what  may  come  next ;  and  the  Wallower 
in  Wealth  belonged  to  that  class.  He  sat  silent  and 
sulky,  while  George  repeated  his  question  with  one 
more  exception. 

**  Gone  vor  their  holiday,"  came  the  answer.  "  I 
looked  in  to  wish  'em  gude-luck,  and  Mrs.  Mudge 
asked  me  to  bide  till  you  come.  Keys  be  in  the 
doors,  I  was  to  tell  ye." 

"  Their  train  doesn't  go  till  seven  o'clock  to-mor- 
row morning." 

"  Postman  told  'em  there's  an  excursion  up  to 
London  at  eleven,  so  they  reckoned  they'd  go  part  of 
the  way  in  that,  and  get  there  quicker." 

"  The  fools  !  "  cried  George.  "  That  train  will 
take  them  in  the  very  opposite  direction." 

"  They  was  a  bit  mazed.  Robert  had  begun  to 
enjoy  his  holiday,  and  Bessie  wur  trying  to  catch 
up  wi'  'en.  Now  they'll  ha'  to  wait  all  night  outside 
the  station." 


SOWING  THE  SEED  329 

"  What  are  you  drinking?  "  asked  George,  sniffing 
at  the  fumes. 

"  Mrs.  Mudge  said  'twur  coffee,  but  it  tastes  more 
like  hot  whisky  and  water.  I'll  give  ye  thirty  shill- 
ings vor  the  musical-box." 

"  I'm  not  going  to  talk  business  at  this  time  of 
night.  It's  my  bedtime  and  yours  too,"  said  George, 
making  a  motion  towards  the  door. 

"  There's  a  drop  o'  this  wonderful  nice  coffee  in 
the  jug." 

"  Take  it  with  you." 

"  I  won't  take  it  in  the  jug,  lest  I  forget  to  bring 
it  back.  Your  very  good  health,  Mr.  Drake  —  and 
I'll  give  any  one  thirty-five  shillings  for  that  musical- 
box." 

George  hurried  into  the  town  next  morning,  and 
ascertained  from  a  porter  who  had  relations  in  High- 
field,  that  the  muddled  Mudges  had  started  upon 
their  journey  in  the  right  direction  shortly  after 
midnight,  by  obtaining  an  introduction  to  the  guard 
of  a  goods-train  and  travelling  —  contrary  to  all 
regulations  —  in  his  van.  The  porter  mentioned 
that  the  guard  had  possibly  been  influenced  by  the 
fact  that  Bessie  was  carrying  a  basket  of  delicacies, 
while  the  neck  of  a  bottle  protruded  from  the  pocket 
of  Robert's  overcoat. 

Satisfied  on  this  point,  George  visited  a  certain 
place  of  business,  and  interviewed  the  manager  who 


330  A  DRAKE  BY  GEORGE ! 

promised  to  send  up  to  Highfield,  very  early  on  the 
following  morning,  two  furniture  vans,  with  suffi- 
cient men  to  do  the  packing  in  one  day.  The  sim- 
plicity of  working  out  a  plot  caused  George  to  laugh 
aloud ;  also  to  treat  himself  to  a  luncheon  from  which 
bread  and  margarine  pudding  was  rigorously  ex- 
cluded. 

On  the  way  home  he  sighted,  in  the  dip  of  the 
road,  a  pair  of  strolling  youngsters,  boy  and  girl, 
who  looked  back  often  as  if  expecting  somebody ; 
the  back  of  the  one,  and  the  beauty  of  the  other, 
seemed  familiar.  Suddenly  the  girl  took  to  her  heels 
and  raced  round  the  bend,  while  the  boy  allowed 
George  to  draw  up  to  him. 

"  Why  does  the  little  girl  run  so  fast  ?  "  asked 
George  in  a  paternal  fashion. 

"  She's  full  of  beans,"  replied  Sidney. 

"  Taking  a  holiday?  "  George  continued. 

"  I  fancied  a  friend  might  be  coming  by  the  three 
o'clock  train;  but  I've  had  the  walk  vor  nothing." 

"Another  young  lady,  I  suppose?" 

"  That's  right,"  said  the  laughing  profligate. 

"  Well,  I'm  confounded !  It  seems  to  me  you  are 
collecting  girls,"  George  muttered. 

"  There's  plenty.  I'll  leave  ye  a  few  to  choose 
from,"  said  Sidney. 

"  I've  done  my  choosing  and  I'm  going  to  settle 
down  after  this  month.  I  suppose  you  know  we  are 


SOWING  THE  SEED  331 

all  clearing  out  of  Highfield  ?  Miss  Blisland  has  gone 
already,  and  you'll  never  see  her  again.  You  tried 
to  catch  Nellie,"  said  George,  who  frequently  lost 
by  his  silly  conversation  all  he  had  gained  by  his 
cunning.  "  But  she  saw  through  your  nasty  little 
ways,  my  lad.  She  didn't  fancy  your  harem.  Nellie 
is  one  of  the  most  sensible  girls  I  have  ever  met,  and 
she's  got  the  makings  of  a  good  woman  in  her." 

"  I  reckon,"  said  Sidney,  like  an  oaf. 

"  It's  a  bit  of  a  change  to  me  to  marry  any  one, 
but  I  don't  mind  sacrificing  myself,"  George  rambled 
on.  "  There's  no  secret  about  it.  We've  taken  a 
house  at  a  place  called  Drivelford,  and  we're  go- 
ing to  let  Miss  Yard  live  with  us.  You  won't  get 
the  chance  to  congratulate  Nellie,  and  I  shouldn't 
permit  it  in  any  case,  as  I  don't  think  you  are  the 
sort  of  young  fellow  she  ought  to  speak  to ;  but  I 
do  hope  you  are  feeling  a  bit  sorry  for  yourself. 
I'm  not  perfect,  but  I  do  think  a  man  ought  to  be 
honest  and  truthful,  and  be  satisfied  with  one  wife, 
so  long  as  she  does  what  he  tells  her." 

"  That's  right  enough,"  said  Sidney. 

"  You  see  what  a  callous  young  fellow  you  are 
already.  You  pretended  to  be  in  love  with  the  fu- 
ture Mrs.  Drake;  but,  now  that  you  have  lost  her, 
you  don't  care  a  hang." 

"  Not  that  much,"  said  Sidney,  snapping  his 
fingers. 


A  DRAKE  BY  GEORGE ! 

"  That's  your  character,"  said  George  bitterly. 
"Why  should  you  care?  There  are  plenty  of  Dol- 
lies, and  Teenies,  and  painted  ladies,  cheap  for  cash 
as  the  advertisements  say." 

"  Here,  you  mind  what  you're  saying.  You're 
going  a  bit  too  far ! "  cried  Sidney,  rounding  angrily 
upon  his  oppressor.  ^ 

"  I'm  not  insulting  you,"  George  explained. 
"  But  I  do  want  to  give  you  a  little  good  advice  be- 
fore we  part.  I  can  quite  understand  that  you  don't 
want  to  hear  the  truth  about  your  young  women, 
and  they  wouldn't  like  to  hear  it  either.  That  little 
girl  ran  away  just  now  because  she  couldn't  face  a 
decent  gentleman." 

"  She  ran  because  she  wouldn't  be  introduced  to 
you." 

"  That  shows  she  can't  be  altogether  bad,"  said 
George  approvingly.  "  Now  I  must  leave  you,  as 
I'm  going  to  take  the  short  cut  across  the  fields.  I 
do  hope  you  will  remember  what  I've  said.  When 
this  new  young  woman  arrives,  try  to  show  your- 
self a  lad  of  courage.  Send  her  home  again  or,  if 
you  don't  like  to  do  that,  send  her  to  me." 

For  some  inscrutable  reason  Sidney  could  not  re- 
strain his  laughter. 

"  Ah,  you  think  I  should  want  to  make  love  to 
her,"  said  George  angrily.  "  I  know  your  nasty 
mind.  You  and  your  grandfather  had  better  be 


SOWING  THE  SEED  333 

careful.  You  haven't  got  a  friend  in  the  par- 
ish." 

"  Except  the  vicar,"  Sidney  reminded  him. 

"  And,  if  he  goes  on  visiting  you,  he  won't  have  a 
friend  in  the  parish  either.  Do  you  know  what  they 
call  you  in  the  village?  " 

"Do  you  know  what  they  call  you?"  Sidney  re- 
torted joyously. 

"  They  call  you  the  Mormon." 

"  And  they  call  you  Ananias !  " 

"  Well,  that  beats  everything,"  gasped  George,  as 
he  dropped  clumsily  over  the  stile.  "  I  never  tell 
lies  except  in  the  way  of  business.  I  always  speak 
the  truth  in  private  life." 

Days  were  shortening,  so  that  by  the  time  George 
had  finished  his  tea,  which  included  a  propitiatory 
offering  of  doughnuts,  the  boom  of  beetles  sounded 
in  the  street.  As  life  was  dull  in  the  bakery,  he 
decided  to  spend  a  tranquil  evening  in  his  own  house, 
surrounded  by  the  furniture  he  had  been  brought  up 
with.  He  went  and  settled  himself  in  an  easy  chair 
with  one  of  the  copies,  still  unburnt,  of  his  uncle's 
monumental  work,  "  A  History  of  Highfield  Parish." 
But  reading  grew  tedious,  and  the  doughnuts  he  had 
consumed  so  recklessly  began  to  trouble,  and  the 
buzzing  of  flies  and  wasps  became  tempestuous. 

Yet  these  sounds  recalled  pleasant  memories  of 
the  past ;  he  had  not  done  much  with  his  life,  still 


334  A  DRAKE  BY  GEORGE! 

he  had  managed  to  win  distinction  as  an  insect-killer. 
He  had  eased  his  uncle's  labours  by  crushing  the 
wasp,  and  averted  his  aunt's  displeasure  by  obliterat- 
ing the  blow-fly.  He  rose  and  went  into  the  kitchen 
to  search  for  a  cork. 

The  lighted  candle  cast  weird  shadows  as  he 
blundered  through  the  pantry  to  the  larder;  dis- 
covering at  last  a  cork  which  smelt  of  alcohol.  That 
at  least  would  give  the  wasps  a  pleasant  death.  But, 
while  hurrying  back  to  the  insect-haunted  parlour, 
he  heard  a  new  disturbance:  no  sleepy  buzzing,  but 
the  fall  of  active  footsteps.  Then  a  handbag  was 
flung  recklessly  through  the  open  window;  banging 
upon  a  chair,  rolling  to  the  floor.  The  footsteps  died 
away,  and  the  gate  of  the  garden  slammed. 

With  horrible  dread  of  a  possible  explosion,  George 
crept  towards  the  missile,  and  touched  it  gingerly. 
It  was  a  neat  brown  bag,  ridiculously  small  to  hold  a 
wardrobe,  and  it  bore  the  initials  N.  B. 

"  That's  what  they  put  in  books,  when  they  want 
to  draw  your  attention  to  something,"  he  muttered. 


CHAPTER  XIX 

REAPING    THE    HARVEST 

IT  would  have  been  extraordinary,  after  Teenie's 
visit,  had  Nellie  not  received  a  letter  from  Sid- 
ney, begging  her  to  give  him  an  opportunity 
of  clearing  up  the  mystery  which  had  so  long  sur- 
rounded Black  Anchor  Farm.  The  style  and  spelling 
of  this  epistle  moved  her  to  the  discovery  that  it 
would  be  necessary  to  leave  Miss  Yard  in  the  hands 
of  Kezia,  and  return  to  Highfield,  for  one  night  only, 
in  order  that  she  might  superintend  the  packing  of 
the  furniture;  in  place  of  George,  who  might  quite 
possibly  prove  untrustworthy. 

She  replied,  not  altogether  to  that  effect,  without 
one  thought  for  the  ridiculous  nature  of  her  expedi- 
tionary programme;  she  could  not  arrive  at  High- 
field  until  late  in  the  afternoon,  she  would  be  com- 
pelled to  leave  early  the  following  morning,  while 
the  packers  could  not  reasonably  be  invited  to  work 
from  dusk  to  sunrise.  Sidney  could  meet  her  at 
the  station  if  he  liked :  in  fact  she  thought  that  might 
be  the  best  plan,  "  As  poor  old  George  does  not  pos- 
sess a  sense  of  humour."  Sidney  thought  so  too ; 

335 


336  A  DRAKE  BY  GEORGE! 

but  Nellie  in  her  hurry  missed  the  train.  She  was 
able  to  agree  with  Miss  Yard,  who  could  not  travel 
without  the  observation,  "  They  ought  to  do  away 
with  railway  junctions." 

There  was  no  good  reason  for  losing  all  sense  of 
method  upon  her  arrival  at  Windward  House.  As 
a  methodist,  she  would  have  walked  calmly  indoors, 
announced  to  Bessie  —  who  was  presumably  in  charge 
—  that  she  had  returned  to  spend  one  more  night 
in  her  old  bedroom  entirely  out  of  sentiment ;  and 
then  have  gone  for  a  walk,  in  the  opposite  direction 
to  Black  Anchor,  among  the  moths  and  beetles,  hop- 
ing to  catch  a  glimpse  of  the  new  moon.  But  the 
sight  of  that  open  window,  the  garish  lamplight, 
the  cold  apparition  of  George  with  a  murderous  cork 
in  his  hand,  made  her  hopelessly  unmethodical.  Her 
mind  became  so  entirely  disorganised  that  everything 
escaped  it,  except  that  stupid  necessity  of  going  for 
a  walk  immediately.  She  flung  her  bag  through  the 
window  and  fled. 

On  the  way  to  Black  Anchor  Nellie  succeeded  in 
persuading  herself  that  she  was,  if  not  exactly  dis- 
creet, at  least  as  sensible  as  any  other  young  woman 
in  revolt  from  the  severity  of  everyday  life  towards 
a  more  picturesque  and  imaginative  style  of  existence. 
She  actually  made  a  plan.  As  it  was  night,  and  suf- 
ficiently dark  for  spying,  she  would  approach  the 
farm  among  the  bogs,  flit  around  it  like  a  will-o'-the 


REAPING  THE  HARVEST  337 

wisp,  play  watchful  fairy  at  the  window,  act  record- 
ing angel  at  the  keyhole,  until  part  at  least  of  the 
mystery  might  be  revealed.  She  had  no  particular 
wish  to  discover  the  secret  of  Sidney's  fascination, 
which  attracted  to  him  young  ladies  of  superior  birth 
and  education,  but  she  desired  very  much  to  learn 
something  about  these  prepossessing  damsels ;  who 
they  were  and  why  they  came;  and  above  all  it  was 
her  business  to  ascertain  why  Sidney  spoke  like  a 
farmer's  boy,  but  looked  like  a  farmer's  landlord,  and 
wrote  like  the  descendant  of  a  poet  laureate. 

"  How  dark  it  is  down  here ! "  she  murmured. 
"  Lucky  I  know  the  geography.  I  wish  I  knew  my 
history  half  as  well." 

Then  it  seemed  to  her  that  all  kinds  of  light-footed 
people  were  leaping  over  the  bogs  and  jumping  the 
furze-bushes ;  while  the  moor  on  each  side  twinkled 
with  teasing  eyes  of  local  inhabitants  sent  out  to 
watch  the  movements  of  the  spy. 

Nellie  saw  the  farm,  and  knew  by  the  stream  of 
light  that  all  the  doors  and  windows  stood  wide  open. 
The  trackway  beyond  was  dangerous  because  one 
window  threw  a  searchlight  right  across  it ;  but  she 
walked  on,  having  never  been  taught  the  art  of  scout- 
ing, and  came  presently  to  a  colossal  figure,  carved 
apparently  out  of  granite,  or  beaten  into  human 
shape  by  wind  and  weather,  rising  from  an  unhewn 
boulder  half-way  to  the  sky.  This  was  a  wonder  of 


338  A  DRAKE  BY  GEORGE! 

the  moor  never  previously  discovered,  thought  Nellie ; 
but  a  moment  later  she  felt  certain  ghosts  were 
abroad,  and  this  colossus  was  being  worshipped  by 
the  local  inhabitants,  dancing  invisibly  all  over  the 
peat  and  tussocks :  she  could  detect  the  smell  of  in- 
cense, see  the  smoke  rising;  any  moment  she  might 
be  compelled  to  witness  a  human  sacrifice.  There 
was  a  glow  of  fire  undoubtedly.  Again  she  fled, 
while  the  colossus  shook  from  side  to  side  although 
there  was  no  wind. 

"  How  silly  of  me !  "  gasped  Nellie.  "  It  was  old 
Mr.  Brock,  sitting  on  a  rock  —  bother  the  rhyme !  — 
smoking  a  cigar." 

Obsessed  by  the  idea  of  finding  out  something 
concerning  this  enchanted  region,  she  went  on  to- 
wards the  farmhouse,  forced  to  walk  along  the  lighted 
trackway  because  it  skirted  the  edges  of  a  bog,  where 
in  full  swing  was  the  season  of  grand  opera  and,  from 
a  cool  green  dais,  the  bull-frog  conductor  constrained 
an  enormous  amount  of  energy  out  of  his  orchestra 

—  it  sounded  like  Tanhauser  but  was  more  melodious 

—  although  the  night- jars  and  owls  did  their  best 
to  mar  the  performance  out  of  professional  rivalry, 
while  the  beetles  with  their  trombones  were  hopelessly 
discordant.     But  soon  there  were  other  sounds,  far 
pleasanter;  a  scuffling  in  the  furze-clad  regions  be- 
yond; an  approach,  a  trepidation,  a  capture,  and  a 
scream : 


REAPING  THE  HARVEST  339 

"  You  beast,  Sidney !  I  did  think  I  had  hidden 
myself  that  time." 

"  I  saw  the  white  ribbon  in  your  hair.  You  looked 
out  just  at  the  wrong  moment." 

"  It's  my  turn  to  seek  now." 

"  I'm  going  up  to  Highfield." 

"  I  don't  believe  she's  coming." 

"  I'll  go  and  find  out  anyhow." 

"Shall  I  come?" 

"  No,  you  stop  at  home." 

"  I  won't  spoil  sport.  If  you  see  her,  I'll  cut  off 
full  lick." 

"  Listen !  that  was  grandfather  whistling." 

Nellie  stood  upon  the  trackway  shivering.  Be- 
hind her  old  Mr.  Brock  closed  the  pass ;  in  front 
Sidney  was  approaching;  on  the  right  side  spread 
the  bogs ;  on  the  left  a  jagged  wilderness  of  boulders. 
From  a  strategical  point  of  view  she  was  done  for. 
And  she  had  come  there  to  spy !  She  could  only  halt 
in  vexation  squeezed  against  a  rock  until  captured, 
or  advance  with  what  little  dignity  remained  to  make 
an  unconditional  surrender. 

"  Boots  muddy,  hair  all  anyhow,  crushed  clothes 
—  and  caught  in  this  abominable  fashion,"  she  mur- 
mured. "  In  fact  I'm  so  untidy  there's  just  a  chance 
he  may  not  recognise  me." 

She  had  not  the  slightest  cause  for  worry.  A 
girl  may  know  when  she  looks  attractive  to  other 


340  A  DRAKE  BY  GEORGE! 

girls ;  but  she  seldom  realises  she  is  most  fascinating 
to  a  man  when  her  boots  are  muddy  and  her  hair  is 
all  anyhow. 

There  came  a  rabbit-like  scamper  up  the  track- 
way, and  the  stampeding  Teenie  screamed  again: 

"Oh,  I  say  —  you  did  make  me  jump!  Sidney! 
Sidney,  you  ass!  Here  she  is!  Here's  Miss  Blis- 
land !  Oh,  what  a  lark ! "  shouted  the  child  with 
shameless  and  barbaric  jubilation. 

"  Don't  talk  such  beastly  nonsense,"  cried  the  other 
voice. 

"  It  is  her !  "  screamed  the  child. 

"  Yes,  it's  me,"  said  Nellie  faintly ;  and  all  three 
stood  together,  in  an  atmosphere  of  amazement  and 
bad  grammar. 

"  I  thought,  as  it  was  such  a  lovely  night  —  I 
mean  evening  —  I  would  stroll  in  this  direction  to 
tell  you  I'm  off  again  first  thing  in  the  morning,"  ex- 
plained Nellie. 

"  This  is  splendid!  I  was  just  going  to  start  for 
Highfield,  but  this  is  far  better,  as  there's  no  old 
Drake  to  waddle  about  and  quack.  I  was  hanging 
about  the  road  all  the  afternoon.  This  is  Teenie 
Stanley  —  my  cheeky  young  sister." 

"  Your  sister !  And  your  name  isn't  Brock  at 
all !  "  cried  Nellie. 

"  Run  away,  kid,  and  talk  to  grandfather,"  Sid- 


REAPING  THE  HARVEST  341 

ney  ordered;  and  the  little  whirlwind  whisked  round 
Nellie  and  departed. 

"  I  did  have  the  idea,  but  thought  somehow  it 
wasn't  possible,"  Nellie  was  saying.  "  You  have 
humbugged  everybody,  but  you  never  really  deceived 
me;  if  you  had,  I  shouldn't  be  here  now.  I  saw 
through  your  Dartmoor  dialect,  and  all  the  rest  of 
it.  And  I  suppose  Dorothy  is  your  elder  sister  ?  " 

"  Of  course  she  is." 

"  And  the  much-abused  Mrs.  Stanley  — " 

"  Is  my  mother  who,  in  spite  of  local  rumour,  does 
not  put  on  local  colour." 

"  Why  ever  didn't  you  tell  me  before?  What  was 
the  sense  of  making  such  a  mystery  of  it?  " 

"  The  people  in  Highfield  made  the  mystery.  We 
didn't  want  them  to  know  we  were  here." 

"  Couldn't  they  see  you,  stupid?  "  said  Nellie,  more 
cheerfully. 

"  I  mean  grandfather  didn't  want  them  to  know 
who  we  are ;  but  I  should  have  let  out  everything  that 
evening  —  when  you  were  spiteful  —  if  we  hadn't 
quarrelled.  You  know,  Nellie,  you  were  rather  too 
cross  about  mother,  and  —  and  I  lost  my  temper 
because  you  wouldn't  trust  me,  and  I  made  up  my 
mind  you  should." 

"  You  are  nearly  as  bad  as  George  Drake,"  she 
declared. 


342  A  DRAKE  BY  GEORGE ! 

"  Nearly  isn't  quite." 

"And  who  are  you,  please?" 

"  Oh,  we  are  not  of  vast  importance.  My  full 
name  is  Arthur  Sidney  Stanley.  It  was  a  shame 
to  give  me  such  names,  as  I  can't  possibly  put  my 
initials  on  anything.  That  little  beast,  Teenie,  al- 
ways calls  me  ass.  We're  not  exactly  paupers,  as 
we  own  a  big  share  in  a  number  of  stores  all  over 
the  south.  There's  one  at  Drivelford." 

"  I've  been  in  it  hundreds  of  times,  and  distinctly 
remember  seeing  you  behind  the  counter." 

"  Don't  be  horrid.  I've  never  been  to  Drivelford 
in  my  life,  but  I'm  going  there  to-morrow  if  you  are." 

"  Who  is  Mr.  Brock  ?  "  she  asked  in  a  great  hurry. 

"  Really  my  grandfather,  and  the  owner  of  Black 
Anchor  Farm,  also  the  patron  of  the  living.  Now 
you  know  why  the  vicar  condescends  to  visit  us. 
Brock  is  such  a  common  name  in  this  part  of  Devon- 
shire that  nobody  could  dream  he  is  the  Mr.  Brock." 

"  And  why  did  you  come  here  ?  Why  have  you 
lived,  like  a  couple  of  common  people,  in  this  ram- 
shackle place,  without  housekeeper  or  servant?  You 
simply  made  the  people  talk  about  you.  How  could 
they  understand  a  couple  of  gentlemen  pigging  it ! 
Your  mother  and  sisters  coming  here  naturally  made 
a  scandal.  Even  I  couldn't  believe  they  were  your 
relations,  though  I  was  positive  you  were  much  bet- 
ter than  you  pretended  to  be.  I  shall  never  forgive 


REAPING  THE  HARVEST  343 

you  for  talking  to  me  in  Devonshire  dialect,  though 
I'm  quite  willing  to  forget  you  had  supper  one  Sun- 
day evening  in  our  kitchen." 

"Wasn't  it  fun  too!"  Sidney  chuckled.  "I 
wanted  grandfather  to  come,  but  he  drew  the  line  at 
that.  When  you  know  grandfather  well  —  and  that's 
going  to  be  jolly  soon  —  you  will  guess  how  enor- 
mously he  has  enjoyed  his  time  here.  It  was  his 
idea  entirely.  He  loves  roughing  it,  he  has  spent 
most  of  his  life  knocking  about  the  world,  and  he's 
only  really  happy  in  a  cottage.  He  declares  luxury 
and  high  feeding  kill  more  people  than  any  disease. 
It's  only  the  rustic  who  lives  to  be  a  hundred,  he 
says ;  and,  as  he  means  to  score  a  century  himself, 
he  takes  a  spell  of  living  like  a  rustic  occasionally. 
He  could  never  get  a  satisfactory  tenant  for  this 
place,  so  he  told  father  one  day  he'd  made  up  his 
mind  to  show  the  commoners  what  hard  work  could 
accomplish  on  a  Dartmoor  farm." 

"  Where  do  you  come  in?  " 

"  Just  here.  I  hadn't  been  very  strong  since  leav- 
ing school  —  crocked  myself  rowing  —  and  the  doc- 
tor said  I  ought  to  work  in  the  open  air  for  a  time 
before  taking  up  anything  serious.  You  can't  per- 
suade doctors  that  farming  is  work ;  they  look  upon 
it  as  a  recreation.  So  grandfather  suggested  I 
should  come  along  with  him.  Father  was  willing, 
but  mother  was  horrified.  I  jumped  at  the  idea  of 


344.  A  DRAKE  BY  GEORGE! 

course.  Grandfather  is  the  grandest  old  fellow  alive, 
and  I  would  rather  be  under  him  than  all  the  doc- 
tors in  the  world.  He  wouldn't  have  a  housekeeper, 
as  he  likes  doing  everything  for  himself  when  he's 
roughing:  besides,  a  woman  would  have  seen  his  pa- 
pers and  letters,  and  found  out  who  he  was ;  and 
naturally  he  doesn't  want  the  people  to  know  that 
the  patron  of  the  living,  and  biggest  landowner  in 
the  parish,  is  grubbing  in  the  bogs  down  here." 

"  Didn't  the  scandal  make  him  angry?  " 

"  He  has  never  heard  a  word  of  it." 

"  So  that's  the  mystery  1 "  cried  Nellie,  feeling 
rather  ashamed  of  herself. 

"It's  jolly  simple  after  all.  We  are  going  away 
before  winter,  when  there's  a  flood  four  days  a  week, 
and  a  gale  the  other  three.  Grandfather  owns  the 
place  has  beaten  him.  He  says  a  man  who  tries  to 
farm  on  Dartmoor  ought  to  receive  a  premium  in- 
stead of  paying  a  rent.  If  it  isn't  bog,  it's  rock,  and, 
if  it  isn't  rock,  it's  *  vuzzy  trade.'  And  if  you  do 
put  in  a  crop,  the  moles  turn  it  out;  and,  if  the 
moles  don't  turn  it  out,  rabbits,  sheep,  mice  and 
grubs  in  millions  and  slugs  in  trillions  gobble  it  up 
completely.  Now  come  and  be  introduced  to  grand- 
father, and  then  I'll  take  you  home.  He  is  sure 
to  growl  at  you,  but  you  must  stand  up  to  him,  and 
then  he'll  love  you.  He  likes  any  one  to  stand  up 
to  him.  The  vicar  got  the  living  by  contradicting 


REAPING  THE  HARVEST  345 

him.  I  say,  Nellie,  don't  hurry  back  to  Drivel- 
ford." 

"  Are  you  aware  you  have  not  called  me  Miss 
Blisland  once?  "  she  demanded,  showing  no  inclina- 
tion to  approach  the  terrible  black  grandfather. 

"  Quite !  And  are  you  aware  you  have  never  once 
called  me  Sidney  ?  " 

"  I  must  go  back  in  the  morning.  Miss  Yard  will 
be  crazy  all  night  without  me.  She  will  think  I've 
been  kidnapped,"  Nellie  hurried  on. 

"  She  won't  be  wrong." 

"  I  should  like  to  start  at  once,  though  I  hate  the 
idea  of  facing  George.  I'm  a  dreadful  coward  really, 
and  I'm  afraid  he  will  think  I  have  treated  him  badly. 
He  knows  of  my  arrival,  but  I'm  quite  certain  he  is 
not  bothering  to  look  for  me." 

"  A  kick  in  the  face  will  do  him  good,"  replied 
Sidney  disdainfully. 

"  He  can't  take  a  joke,  though  he  did  try  to  take 
me,  and  I'm  much  the  biggest  joke  he  has  ever  run 
against.  The  truth  of  the  matter  is  he  has  made  up 
his  mind  to  get  back  the  Captain's  furniture,  which 
belongs  to  Miss  Yard  now,  and  he  knows  the  only 
way  he  can  get  it  is  by  marrying  me." 

"  There's  grandfather  growling !  He's  telling 
Teenie  to  go  to  bed,  and  she's  telling  him  to  go  him- 
self. That  kid  never  is  tired.  Now  he's  chuckling ! 
Grandfather  likes  to  be  cheeked." 


346  A  DRAKE  BY  GEORGE ! 

"  I  ought  to  have  gone  long  ago.  It  must  be  get- 
ting on  for  midnight." 

"  And  we've  got  to  be  up  early.  I'm  coming  with 
you,  and  you  shall  introduce  me  to  Miss  Yard,  and 
then  I'll  take  you  to  my  people,  and  then  we'll  get 
married  — " 

"  Well,  of  all  the  precociousness ! "  she  gasped. 
"  Do  you  know  I'm  older  than  you?  " 

"  You  can't  blame  me  for  that." 

"  And  I  expect  to  be  treated  with  respect.  And 
my  father  was  never  anything  more  than  a  very  poor 
curate." 

"  Well,  a  curate  is  a  bishop  on  a  small  scale,  and 
we  are  only  shopkeepers  on  a  large  scale.  It's  funny 
that  poor  curates  should  always  have  the  nicest 
daughters." 

"  And  I  can't  forgive  you  for  talking  to  me  like  a 
farmer's  boy." 

"  Then  I  won't  forgive  you  for  saying  horrid 
things,  and  thinking  worse  about  my  mother  and 
sisters." 

"  Of  course  we  might  forget.  But  then  that 
wouldn't  be  enough.  So  I  can  never  marry  you,  Sid- 
ney —  at  least,  not  until  Miss  Sophy  dies." 

"  She'll  have  to  be  jolly  quick  about  it,"  said  the 
young  man  fiercely. 

"  She  is  very  kind  and  considerate,"  Nellie  mur- 
mured doubtfully ;  trying  to  work  out  the  algebraical 


REAPING  THE  HARVEST  347 

problem.  If  a  Giant  Tortoise  is  hale  and  hearty  at 
five  hundred,  and  a  Yellow  Leaf  is  trying  to  inveigle 
a  Mere  Bud  towards  the  matrimonial  altar  at  ninety- 
something,  what  is  the  reasonable  expectation  of  life 
of  an  old  Lady  who  has  nothing  to  die  for? 

"  All  this  time,"  said  Sidney,  "  grandfather  is 
peering  at  us,  while  Teenie  is  simply  goggling.  We 
have  got  to  pass  them,  and  then  —  thank  heaven !  — 
we  shall  be  alone." 

"  If  I  let  you  come  with  me  — "  she  began. 

"  As  if  you  could  prevent  it !  " 

"  Will  you  stand  up  to  George  for  me  ?  Will  you 
play  the  Dragon,  and  not  get  beaten?  " 

"  Rather !     I  owe  the  saint  one  for  his  sermons." 

But  Sidney  was  not  given  the  opportunity,  for, 
when  they  reached  Windward  House,  after  wasting 
an  extraordinary  amount  of  time  in  climbing  the 
hill,  they  found  the  place  deserted ;  but  the  key  was 
in  the  door,  and  a  note  lay  on  the  table.  They  read 
it  with  explosions  of  sheer  rapture. 

Why  Nellie  had  returned  to  Highfield  George,  for 
his  part,  could  not  imagine ;  but  he  considered  her 
conduct  on  the  whole  disgraceful,  and  begged  to 
remind  her  that  nothing  but  a  satisfactory  explana- 
tion could  avert  a  rupture.  She,  in  her  selfishness, 
had  supposed,  no  doubt,  he  would  either  light  a  lan- 
tern and  seek  to  track  her  footsteps;  or  sit  up  and 
wait  until  she  should  be  pleased  to  return.  He  had 


348  A  DRAKE  BY  GEORGE! 

no  intention  of  doing  either  of  these  things.  A  game 
of  hide-and-seek  about  the  Highfield  lanes  at  dead  of 
night,  after  a  long  and  fatiguing  day,  was  not  much 
to  his  taste ;  while  the  role  of  henpecked  lover,  await- 
ing the  return  of  a  profligate  fiancee  to  the  family 
hearth,  was  a  part  he  was  still  less  suited  for.  It 
was  his  habit  to  retire  at  half-past  ten.  He  had  re- 
tired, utterly  worn  out  and  exhausted.  In  the  morn- 
ing he  would  give  Nellie  an  opportunity  for  explain- 
ing her  conduct ;  and,  if  the  explanation  should  prove 
unsatisfactory,  he  should  seriously  contemplate  ask- 
ing her  to  return  all  the  presents  he  had  given  her. 

"  What  has  he  given  you,  darling?  "  asked  Sidney. 

"  Nothing  whatever,  dearest." 

They  had  learnt  a  number  of  words  like  that  while 
toiling  up  the  hill. 

"  But  surely,  sweetheart,  he  must  have  given  you 
something." 

"  I  expect  he's  thinking  of  the  furniture ;  but  I 
got  that  for  myself,  though  he  doesn't  know  how." 

Then  they  made  their  plans,  but  George  had  also 
made  his.  His  usual  habit  was  to  permit  the  sun 
to  warm  the  world  before  he  walked  upon  it ;  but  on 
this  occasion  he  had  requested  Mrs.  Dyer  to  call  him 
early.  Nellie,  on  the  other  hand,  overslept,  having 
nobody  to  call  her,  and  being  naturally  tired  after 
so  much  travelling,  romance,  excitement  and  hap- 
piness :  excellent  things  but  all  fatiguing. 


REAPING  THE  HARVEST  349 

She  woke  with  a  dream  of  a  battlefield  where  shells 
of  monstrous  size  were  exploding  upon  every  side, 
each  one  missing  her  by  inches ;  nor  was  this  surpris- 
ing for,  upon  opening  her  eyes,  she  soon  became 
aware  that  stones  were  being  hurled  into  the  room. 

"  It  can't  be  Sidney,"  she  murmured  sleepily. 
"  He  wouldn't  wake  me  so  roughly,  even  though  I  am 
late.  Goodness  —  that's  a  rock !  " 

It  was  not  Sidney.  It  was  George,  as  she  dis- 
covered by  one  swift  glance.  He  frowned  like  an  ar- 
tillery-man while  adding  to  his  stock  of  ammuni- 
tion. 

"  Stop  it!  You've  broken  the  water- jug,  and  my 
room  is  flooded,"  she  cried. 

"  So  I've  got  you  up  at  last !  You  threw  your  bag 
into  my  window  last  night,  so  I  throw  stones  into 
your  window  this  morning.  It's  what  they  call  the 
lextalionis." 

"  Please  go  away !  I'm  not  dressed  yet,"  she 
called. 

"  I'm  waiting  to  hear  your  explanation,  and  I'm 
going  to  stand  here,  in  this  very  same  place  where 
I  was  first  beguiled  by  your  deceitful  face  at  the 
window,  when  you  sat  and  worked  a  sewing-machine, 
like  that  lady  in  the  Bible  who  got  pushed  out  and 
trodden  underfoot,"  said  George  wrathfully ;  for  dur- 
ing the  night  a  suspicion  of  the  truth  had  reached 
him. 


350  A  DRAKE  BY  GEORGE! 

"  I'd  better  get  it  over  at  once,"  Nellie  murmured. 
Then  she  wrapped  herself  in  the  quilt  and  approached 
the  window. 

"  Here  I  am !  "  she  said  brightly. 

**  What  a  nasty,  hostile,  ungrateful  expression. 
And  you  ought  to  be  in  a  white  sheet  instead  of  that 
scarlet  quilt,"  said  George  bitterly. 

"  Well,  you  shouldn't  be  so  rude  as  to  throw  stones 
at  me.  They  were  not  pebbles  either." 

"  It's  my  house  and  my  window.  Why  have  you 
come  back  ?  " 

"  Because  I  wanted  to." 

"  That's  a  woman's  answer.  Did  you  give  your 
address  to  that  wicked  little  girl  who  answers  to  the 
name  of  Teenie?  " 

"  I  might  have." 

"  That's  another  woman's  answer.  Did  that  young 
man  who  wallows  in  vice  write  to  you?  " 

"  A  young  gentleman  known  here  as  Sidney  Brock 
did  write  to  me." 

"  That's  the  sort  of  confession  a  woman  does 
make.  And  you  actually  replied?  You  had  no 
shame  whatever?  " 

"  I  sent  an  answer." 

"  Then  came !  " 

"  And  saw  and  conquered,"  she  murmured  happily. 

"  What  are  you  muttering  about  ?  " 

"  I  suppose  you  would  call  them  my  sins.     But,  if 


REAPING  THE  HARVEST  351 

you  speak  to  me  again  like  that,  I  shall  shut  the 
window,"  Nellie  replied  with  spirit. 

"  I'm  blest  if  she  isn't  going  to  argue,"  George 
mumbled.  "  I  don't  want  to  be  hard  upon  you, 
young  woman,  but  I  can't  have  this  sort  of  thing," 
he  went  on  sternly.  "  You  desert  my  dear  old  aunt, 
and  come  back  here,  and  rush  into  bad  company, 
and  you  don't  even  ask  my  permission.  I'm  a 
liberal  and  broad-minded  chap,  but  I  can't  stand 
that." 

"  How  are  you  going  to  prevent  it  ?  " 
"  By  asserting  myself,  by  putting  my  foot  down. 
Here  am  I  working  and  toiling  for  you.  I  have  sent 
Robert  and  Bessie  away  for  a  well-earned  holiday, 
and  presently  vans  will  be  coming  for  the  furniture. 
It's  all  for  you.  I  don't  think  of  myself  at  all.  I'm 
saving  the  furniture,  and  handing  it  over  to  you  at 
great  expense,  while  you  are  breaking  my  heart  by 
making  appointments  with  young  Mormons  in  the 
dark,  and  going  to  such  a  place  as  Black  Anchor  at 
dead  of  night,  and  staying  there  till  morning.  That 
sort  of  conduct  makes  men  commit  murder  and  sui- 
cide, and  other  things  they  are  sorry  for  afterwards. 
But  I'm  not  a  criminal,  and  I'm  not  passionate.  I'm 
practical,  and  cool,  and  —  and  amiable.  I  have 
taken  quite  a  fancy  to  you,  Nellie.  Other  people 
don't  think  much  of  you,  but  I  can  see  you  have  good 
qualities,  only  you  won't  show  them.  Now  I  want 


353  A  DRAKE  BY  GEORGE! 

you  to  tell  me  why  you  wrote  to  young  Sidney,  and 
why  you  met  him  last  night.  Be  very  careful  how 
you  answer,  as  the  whole  of  your  future  happiness 
may  depend  on  it." 

"  I  wanted  to  clear  up  the  mystery,"  she  said. 

"  There  is  no  mystery  about  shameful  wickedness. 
Being  about  to  marry  a  respectable  gentleman,  who 
bears  a  highly  honoured  name,  upon  the  last  day  of 
this  month  — " 

"  Oh,  stop !  Do  please !  "  cried  Nellie  appealingly. 
"  We  are  only  playing.  We  have  been  fooling  all 
along,  and  you  must  have  known  it.  I  was  always 
laughing  and  teasing  —  have  you  ever  seen  me  se- 
rious, as  I  am  now?  " 

"  You  don't  mean  to  tell  me  you  are  trying  to  get 
out  of  it  —  you  are  not  going  to  keep  your  prom- 
ise? " 

"  What  was  my  promise?  " 

"  That  you  would  marry  me  on  the  last  day  of  this 
month." 

"  It  wasn't  put  like  that.  I  promised,  in  fun,  to 
marry  you  on  the  thirty-first  of  September,  and,  of 
course,  I  thought  you  would  have  seen  through  that 
joke  long  ago." 

"  I  suppose  the  point  of  the  joke  is  that  you  mean 
to  become  a  Mormon  ?  " 

"  There  is  no  thirty-first  of  September.     And  I 


REAPING  THE  HARVEST  353 

am  going  to  become  a  Mormon,  if  you  like  to  put  it 
that  way,  for  I  am  engaged  to  Sidney  Brock." 

"  And  I'll  tell  you  what  I  am  going  to  do,"  George 
shouted.  "  I'm  going  to  jilt  you." 

"  Thanks  so  much,"  laughed  Nellie. 

George  stalked  out  of  the  garden,  and  was  not  seen 
again  until  Sidney  and  Nellie  had  departed,  and  big 
vans  had  drawn  up  beside  Windward  House  to  the 
wonder  and  dismay  of  all  the  village.  Then  he  re- 
visited the  scenes  of  his  former  triumphs  and  issued 
certain  orders  to  the  packers.  After  that  he  hurried 
off  to  the  town  and  visited  an  auctioneer. 

Returning  to  Highfield,  he  passed  behind  Robert's 
cottage,  demolished  the  peatstack,  and  brought  to 
light  the  musical-box,  the  silver  candlesticks,  and  all 
the  rest  of  the  purloined  articles.  These  were  de- 
posited in  the  vans. 

A  hostile  crowd  had  collected,  but  George  took  no 
heed  of  any  one ;  not  even  the  Wallower  in  Wealth 
who  sought  ineffectually  to  obtain  possession  of  the 
musical-box  by  force  and  without  payment.  The 
unhappy  Dyer  had  his  eyes  opened  to  the  exceeding 
perfidy  of  his  lodger,  but  he  dared  not  open  his  mouth 
as  well. 

The  following  day  bills  were  posted  about  the 
neighbourhood,  announcing  a  sale  to  be  held  at  short 
notice,  in  the  market-hall  of  the  town,  of  the  valuable 


354  A  DRAKE  BY  GEORGE! 

furniture  and  remarkable  antiquities  formerly  in  the 
possession  of  Captain  Francis  Drake,  by  order  of  the 
Executor  of  the  will  of  Mrs.  Drake  deceased. 

"  I'm  sorry  for  Aunt  Sophy,  but  she  ought  to  have 
kept  out  of  bad  company,"  was  George's  only  com- 
ment. 


CHAPTER  XX 

THE    GLEANERS 

WHEN  Bessie  and  Robert  returned  to 
Highfield;  when  the  people  discovered 
how  the  light  railway,  which  originally 
had  been  a  matter  of  electricity,  and  then  had  de- 
generated into  an  affair  of  steam,  was  in  fact  a  pro- 
posal of  gas  entirely ;  when  Windward  House  re- 
mained empty  and  unswept,  with  the  giant  tortoise 
lord  of  the  manor ;  and  when  the  niggardly  Dyer  was 
attacked  on  all  sides  as  the  confederate  of  the  public 
enemy  —  there  unfortunately  existed  no  genius  of  the 
lamp  competent  to  continue  the  parochial  record 
from  the  point  where  Captain  Drake  had  closed  it. 
Genii  of  the  lantern  undoubtedly  did  exist,  and  these 
made  another  story,  a  kind  of  fairy-tale,  which  was 
not  told  outside  the  village.  All  the  water  was  spilt 
near  the  pump.  Nobody  took  part  in  the  revolution 
which  followed,  causing  an  alteration  in  the  land- 
scape; at  least  nobody  in  particular;  but  there  was 
not  a  man,  woman,  or  child  of  destructive  age  who 
did  not  give  a  hand  towards  the  general  rubbing  of 

the  lamp.     When  the  furniture  failed  to  arrive  at  the 

355 


356  A  DRAKE  BY  GEORGE ! 

banks  of  the  Drivel,  and  inquiry  elicited  the  fact 
that  all  had  passed  into  the  hands  of  dealers,  Kezia 
fell  into  a  state  of  melancholy  which  not  even  her 
favourite  Sunday  walk  around  the  cemetery  was  able 
to  relieve ;  and  when  the  cruel  truth  of  George's  un- 
assailable title  to  Windward  House  was  broken  gently 
room  by  room,  despondency  increased  upon  her  to 
such  an  extent  that  she  actually  paid  a  visit  to  the 
electric  theatre. 

Miss  Yard  laughed  merrily  at  the  humorous  idea 
of  buying  new  furniture,  and  told  everybody  about 
her  provincial  escape  from  the  fire  which  had  de- 
stroyed everything  she  possessed,  and  how  a  young 
gentleman  called  Sidney  had  rescued  her  from  the 
flames  at  great  personal  risk.  She  was  so  grateful 
that  she  suggested  he  might  become  engaged  to  Nellie, 
and  he  had  done  so  at  once;  which  showed  how  ab- 
surd it  was  to  say  that  young  men  of  the  present 
day  were  rude  and  disobedient.  Of  course  it  was 
understood  that  the  engagement  was  only  to  con- 
tinue during  her  lifetime.  As  for  Nellie,  she  breathed 
a  great  sigh  of  relief.  The  loss  of  the  furniture 
might  be  a  serious  matter,  so  far  as  Kezia's  future 
and  Miss  Yard's  banking-account  were  concerned; 
but  it  meant  the  total  eclipse  of  George.  He  could 
not  show  his  face  either  in  Highfield  or  Drivelford; 
he  had  done  for  himself  completely.  She  refused 


THE  GLEANERS  357 

to  listen  to  Sidney's  proposal  of  instructing  Hunter 
to  institute  proceedings. 

"  By  doing  nothing  we  get  rid  of  him  for  ever," 
she  said. 

"  Anyhow,  we  can  take  action  against  the  people 
who  bought  the  things,"  he  urged. 

"  We  shall  do  nothing  of  the  kind.  It  would  worry 
the  old  lady  into  her  grave ;  and  I  believe  that's  your 
object." 

"  I  want  to  punish  the  brute  for  bullying  you  and 
preaching  at  me." 

"  You  can't  make  a  thick-skinned  creature  like 
George  feel  anything,"  she  answered.  "  If  he  were 
put  in  prison,  he  would  congratulate  himself  upon 
living  free  of  expense.  And  if  he  refunded  the 
money,  he  would  insist  upon  coming  here  and  living 
with  Miss  Sophy.  It  would  be  no  use  turning  him 
out.  He  would  come  back  like  a  cat  and  make  us 
all  miserable.  Leave  him  alone,  and  we  shall  hear 
no  more  of  him." 

She  prophesied  truly.  Those  who  had  been  hon- 
oured by  the  society,  and  somewhat  doubtful  friend- 
ship, of  George  Drake  were  not  privileged  to  look 
upon  him  —  or  on  his  like  —  again.  After  gather- 
ing in  his  harvest,  he  retired  into  the  privacy  of 
lodgings,  having  a  sum  of  sixteen  hundred  pounds 
to  his  credit,  and  spent  a  couple  of  years  drinking 


358  A  DRAKE  BY  GEORGE ! 

tea,  smoking  cigars,  and  trying  to  make  up  his  mind 
whether  his  landlady's  daughter  "  would  do." 

This  young  lady  was  of  a  more  orthodox  type  than 
Nellie.  She  possessed  a  head  of  golden  hair,  upon 
which  much  time  and  dye  had  been  expended ;  her 
eyes  were  dull ;  her  countenance  was  flaming.  George 
secretly  admired  that  style  of  beauty.  The  young 
woman  could  make  tea,  arrange  cushions,  fetch  and 
carry  slippers,  stand  in  a  deferential  attitude;  she 
showed  unmistakable  signs  of  honesty,  and  obeyed 
the  call  of  her  mother  instantly ;  she  had  no  conver- 
sation, the  possession  of  which  was  a  gift  that  marred 
so  many  women ;  she  giggled  respectfully  when  ad- 
dressed ;  nor  did  she  shrink  from  admitting  that  gen- 
tlemen of  Mr.  Drake's  magnificence  unhappily  grew 
scarcer  every  year. 

George  became  highly  delighted  with  Matilda 
which,  he  remarked,  was  a  sweet,  old-fashioned  name, 
suggesting  to  him  somehow  the  odour  of  lilac  and 
honeysuckle.  He  congratulated  himself  frequently 
upon  having  thrown  over  that  designing  young 
woman,  Nellie,  just  in  time;  and,  at  the  expiration 
of  eighteen  months  of  indolence,  he  informed  her  — 
for  in  such  a  matter  he  disdained  all  questions  —  of 
the  social  position  that  awaited  her.  She  was  ca- 
pable of  improvement,  he  admitted,  and  no  doubt  she 
would  improve.  Grace  she  would  acquire  by  watch- 
ing him.  The  heavy  tramping  about  the  house 


THE  GLEANERS  359 

might  be  exchanged  for  a  gentle  footfall  by  the  use 
of  more  appropriate  footwear.  He  begged  her  to 
bear  these  things  in  mind,  and  above  all  never  to 
forget  that  out  of  all  the  women  in  the  world  he 
had  selected  her. 

Matilda  appeared  quite  satisfied.  So  did  her 
mother,  who  was  deep  in  debt,  and  had  no  scruples 
against  adding  to  the  burden,  when  informed  by  her 
future  son-in-law  that  his  resources  were  practically 
unlimited. 

"  It  has  just  occurred  to  me  I  have  a  property 
on  Dartmoor  worth  a  couple  of  thousand,"  he  said 
in  the  grand  manner,  well  suited  to  his  wealth  and 
indolence.  "  I  have  not  been  near  it  for  the  last 
two  years.  It's  a  fine  house  —  a  beautiful  Eliza- 
bethan mansion  —  but  it  has  a  somewhat  peculiar 
history,"  he  added. 

"  Is  there  a  ghost?  "  asked  Matilda's  mother,  who 
was  greatly  impressed  by  everything  George  said. 

"  There  are  several  ghosts,"  he  replied. 

"  Don't  ye  ask  me  to  live  there  then,"  said  Ma- 
tilda, with  her  giggle  which  ought  to  have  been  il- 
legal. 

"  Nothing  would  induce  me  to  go  near  the  place," 
said  George  with  perfect  truth.  "  I  ought  to  have 
sold  it  long  ago,  but  these  little  things  escape  one's 
memory.  I  will  dispose  of  it  at  once,  and  buy  a 
cottage,  with  a  bit  of  land.  I  shall  keep  bees  and 


360  A  DRAKE  BY  GEORGE! 

prune  the  rose-trees ;  while  you  look  after  the  poultry 
and  the  cow,  do  the  cooking,  mind  the  house,  and 
attend  to  me." 

Matilda  was  a  poor  mathematician,  but  even  to  her 
this  did  not  appear  a  fair  division  of  labour.  Al- 
ready she  was  running  up  a  little  account  against 
her  future  husband.  His  courtship  was  not  of  that 
vigorous  order  she  had  a  right  to  expect ;  his  in- 
dolence seemed  to  her  a  type  curable  only  by  the 
constant  application  of  a  broomstick ;  his  craving 
for  tea  and  tobacco,  unless  checked,  might  easily 
become  morbid.  Matilda  possessed  some  wits ;  not 
many,  but  ingenious  ones ;  and,  until  George  was 
safely  tied  to  her  by  matrimony,  she  was  going  to 
pretend  she  had  no  conversation. 

When  George  observed  that  the  Dartmoor  prop- 
erty had  just  occurred  to  his  memory,  he  intended 
perhaps  to  say  he  had  thought  of  little  else  during 
the  last  two  years.  He  had  almost  succeeded  in 
believing  that  his  disposal  of  the  furniture  had  come 
perilously  near  actual  dishonesty ;  by  which  he  meant 
to  imply  his  action  had  been  unbusinesslike  and  fool- 
ish ;  though  he  had  the  satisfaction  of  knowing  that 
Nellie  had  been  justly  punished  for  her  offences.  He 
had  planned  to  sell,  or  to  let,  Windward  House  im- 
mediately; but  had  reckoned  without  his  cowardly 
nature,  which  conjured  up  visions  of  all  manner  of 
people  seeking  vengeance  against  him.  Bessie  and 


THE  GLEANERS  361 

Robert  would  be  clamouring  for  his  arrest ;  Kezia 
might  have  taken  her  scraps  of  paper  to  some  solici- 
tor; Nellie  might  have  placed  the  matter  in  the 
hands  of  Hunter;  the  dreary  Dyer  might  be  forced 
to  bring  an  action  for  conspiracy  to  clear  his  own 
mean  character.  George  had  been  so  terrified  by 
these  fancies  that,  for  several  months,  he  hardly 
dared  to  stir  from  his  lodgings,  and  could  not  look  a 
policeman  in  the  face. 

But  now  that  two  years  had  passed,  and  nobody 
had  tapped  him  on  the  shoulder,  he  decided  it  would 
be  perfectly  safe  to  emerge  from  his  obscurity  to  the 
extent  of  communicating  with  a  land  agent  in  Exeter, 
which  city  was  a  satisfactory  distance  from  High-' 
field,  and  instructing  him  to  offer  the  property  for 
sale  by  public  auction  or,  should  an  opportunity 
arise,  to  dispose  of  it  at  once  by  private  treaty. 
For  sake  of  convenience  George  requested  that  let- 
ters should  be  addressed  to  him  at  a  certain  post- 
office,  as  he  still  thought  it  advisable  to  protect  the 
sanctity  of  his  private  residence. 

The  land  agent  replied  that  a  sale  by  auction  was 
generally  the  most  lucrative  manner  of  disposing  of  a 
property,  and  suggested  the  despatch  of  a  clerk 
skilled  in  valuation  to  inspect  the  premises.  He 
mentioned  also  that  applications  for  houses  in  the 
Highfield  district  reached  his  office  continually,  and 
he  would  be  pleased  to  issue  orders  to  view  the 


362  A  DRAKE  BY  GEORGE ! 

property  which  by  the  description  appeared  a  valu- 
able one. 

George  agreed  to  everything,  but  was  inclined  to 
lay  stress  upon  the  private  sale  if  possible,  as  he  did 
not  wish  the  local  inhabitants  to  know  that  the  own- 
ership of  the  house  was  about  to  change  hands.  In- 
cluded in  the  sale,  he  mentioned,  would  be  a  giant 
tortoise  —  or  the  animal  might  be  offered  separately 
—  more  than  half  a  thousand  years  old.  This  rep- 
tile, which  would  appeal  alike  to  animal-lovers  and 
to  antiquarians,  was  a  fixture  with  the  garden,  above 
which  it  browsed  one-half  of  the  year,  and  below 
which  it  slept  for  the  other  half. 

Some  days  passed,  during  which  George  became  a 
prey  to  various  emotions.  Then  came  a  letter  which 
puzzled  him  exceedingly.  The  land  agent  would  be 
much  obliged  if  Mr.  Drake  could  make  it  convenient 
to  call  at  his  office  in  order  that  certain  misunder- 
standings might  be  removed.  He  did  not  care  to 
say  anything  more  definite  at  the  moment,  as  it  was 
quite  possible  he  had  read  Mr.  Drake's  instructions 
wrongly.  If  this  was  not  the  case,  something  very 
mysterious  had  happened. 

George  thought  of  all  manner  of  things,  but  above 
all  he  suspected  treachery.  If  he  entered  the  office, 
he  might  find  himself  trapped;  with  Bessie  in  one 
corner,  Kezia  in  another,  Dyer  in  the  third,  and 
Nellie  in  the  fourth;  with  that  notorious  oppressor 


THE  GLEANERS  363 

of  widows  and  orphans,  Hunter  himself,  standing 
vindictively  in  the  centre;  not  to  mention  a  horde  of 
howling  Highfielders  outside  the  office.  So  he  de- 
cided to  take  Matilda  with  him.  It  would  be  a  nice 
outing  for  the  girl.  He  could  send  her  into  the  of- 
fice to  spy  out  the  land ;  and,  if  necessary,  he  could 
sacrifice  her  to  the  violence  of  the  mob. 

However,  no  precaution  was  required  for,  upon 
reaching  the  office  and  peering  anxiously  through  the 
glass  portion  of  the  door,  George  discovered  one 
clerk  sprawling  over  a  desk  asleep,  and  another  read- 
ing a  newspaper.  Reassured  by  these  peaceful  signs 
of  business  as  usual,  he  told  Matilda  to  go  and  look 
at  the  shops,  and  to  cultivate  a  gift  of  imagination 
by  selecting  those  articles  of  dress  and  adornment 
which  she  most  desired;  then  entered,  and  asked  the 
clerk,  who  seemed  more  capable  of  action,  whether 
his  master  was  disengaged.  The  reply  being  favour- 
able, George  gave  his  name,  though  with  less  noise 
than  usual,  and  was  immediately  invited  to  step  up- 
stairs and  to  open  the  first  door  that  occurred.  He 
did  so,  reproaching  himself  bitterly  for  the  shame- 
ful timidity  which  had  kept  him  in  hiding  for  two 
years,  and  entirely  convinced  that  the  purloining  of 
the  furniture  was  a  very  ordinary  and  straightfor- 
ward piece  of  business. 

But  this  fine  humour  was  knocked  out  of  shape 
when  the  land  agent,  after  a  few  preliminary  re- 


364  A  DRAKE  BY  GEORGE! 

marks  concerning  hurricanes  and  anticyclones  —  ap- 
propriate under  the  circumstances  —  remarked 
courteously : 

"  In  what  part  of  Highfield  parish  is  the  property 
situated  ?  " 

"  Near  the  end  of  the  village  street,  just  above  the 
post-office,"  answered  the  astounded  George. 

"  So  I  judged  from  your  description.  It  sounds 
a  very  remarkable  thing  to  say,  Mr.  Drake,  but  — 
we  can't  find  it." 

"What  the  deuce  do  you  mean?"  George  stut- 
tered.    "Not   find  it!     Not  find  Highfield  House! 
Why,  it's  the  only  gentleman's  residence  in  the  vil- 
lage.    It  stands  out  by  itself.     It  hits  you  in  the 
eye.     It's  as  obvious  as  Exeter  Cathedral." 
"  Then  you  have  no  explanation  to  offer  ?  " 
"  Explain !     What  do  you  want  me  to  explain  ?  " 
"  Why  my  clerk,  also  a  possible  purchaser,  both 
acting  on  the  same  day  though  independently,  were 
unable  to  locate  the  property.     And  why  the  local 
residents  have  no  knowledge  of  its  existence." 
"  Of  course,  they  went  to  the  wrong  village." 
"  There  is  only  one  Highfield  in  Devonshire.     I 
will   tell   you  precisely   what   happened.     Upon   re- 
ceiving your  instructions,  I  directed  my  valuation 
clerk  to  go  to  Highfield  and  inspect  the  property. 
I  also  displayed  a  notice  in  the  window.     Houses  on 
Dartmoor  are  selling  well  just  now,  as  very  few  are 


THE  GLEANERS  365 

available,  and  the  district  has  become  highly  popu- 
lar as  it  is  said  to  be  the  healthiest  part  of  Eng- 
land. Hardly  was  the  notice  in  the  window,  when 
a  gentleman  called  and  asked  for  an  order  to  view 
the  property;  and  he  travelled  in  the  same  train  as 
my  clerk,  though  neither  was  aware  of  the  other's 
existence ;  nor  did  they  meet  in  Highfield,  as  my 
clerk  had  left  the  village  —  supposing  that  a  mis- 
take had  been  made  —  before  the  gentleman  arrived. 
Since  then  several  people  have  inquired  after  the 
property,  but  I  had  to  put  them  off  until  I  had  seen 
you.  Now,  Mr.  Drake,  surely  you  can  explain  the 
mystery." 

"  Mystery  —  there  can't  be  one.  There's  the 
house  simply  blotting  out  the  landscape!  If  they 
couldn't  find  it  they  must  have  been  blind  and  par- 
alysed," George  shouted. 

"  My  clerk  could  see  no  signs  of  a  gentleman's 
residence  in  the  village,  and  when  he  asked  one  or 
two  of  the  inhabitants  they  knew  nothing  about  Wind- 
ward House.  He  did  not  press  his  inquiry,  as  he 
naturally  supposed  you  had  somehow  sent  the  wrong 
instructions." 

"  I  should  like  to  know  what  part  of  the  world  he 
did  go  to,"  George  muttered. 

"  The  gentleman  who  went  to  view  the  property, 
returned  here  in  a  pretty  bad  temper,  as  he  thought 
I  had  made  a  fool  of  him,"  continued  the  agent. 


A  DRAKE  BY  GEORGE! 

"  He  too  inquired  of  the  local  inhabitants  where 
Windward  House  might  be  situated,  and  received 
the  same  answer.  They  either  did  not  know,  or 
would  not  tell  him." 

"  Are  you  making  this  up  ?  Have  you  received 
instructions  from  people  answering  to  the  names  of 
Hunter,  Mudge,  Dyer,  Blisland,  Kezia,  Brock,  to 
humbug  me?"  cried  George. 

"  Certainly  not,  sir,"  said  the  agent  sharply. 

"  Then  I'm  confounded !  I  don't  believe  in  magic, 
ghosts,  witches,  evil  eye,  Aladdin's  lamp,  or  pixies. 
Have  you  ever  heard  of  such  a  thing  in  your  life? 
Have  you  ever  known  a  fine,  big,  well-built,  modern 
residence  to  vanish  off  the  face  of  the  earth,  together 
with  the  ground  it  stood  on,  and  the  garden  around 
it?  Do  you  believe  such  a  thing  is  possible?  Be- 
cause, if  you  do  believe  it,  I  am  ruined." 

And  having  thus  spoken  George  wiped  away  the 
most  genuine  moisture  that  had  ever  dimmed  his 
vision. 

"  I  cannot  offer  any  explanation,  Mr.  Drake,  but 
it's  certain  your  house  has  disappeared.  Don't  you 
think  the  best  thing  you  can  do  is  to  go  there  your- 
self and  find  out  what  really  has  happened?  " 

"  I  won't  go  near  the  place,"  cried  George.  "  I 
wouldn't  be  seen  in  it.  I  —  I  might  disappear  too." 

"  Then  will  you  put  the  matter  into  the  hands  of 
the  police  ?  " 


THE  GLEANERS  367 

"  I'll  have  nothing  to  do  with  them  either,"  de- 
clared George. 

"  Shall  I  go  myself  and  make  inquiries  of  the  vicar 
or  some  other  reliable  person?  " 

"  All  right,"  said  George  heavily.  "  It  means  more 
expense,  but  that's  nothing  to  me  now.  If  my  house 
has  gone,  I  may  as  well  go  to  my  last  home  at  once. 
It's  no  use  trying  to  kick  against  the  powers  of  dark- 
ness," he  muttered. 

So  the  agent  travelled  to  Highfield  and  collected  a 
few  details  from  certain  inhabitants,  who  did  not 
altogether  approve  of  the  local  revolution,  but  were 
not  going  to  make  themselves  unpopular  by  refusing 
to  take  a  rub  at  the  lamp  themselves.  Having  learnt 
so  much,  it  was  easy  to  add  to  his  information  by  as- 
suming hostility  to  George  and  expressing  approval 
of  the  punishment  which  had  been  meted  out  to  him. 

"  Mr.  Drake  said  one  thing  and  meant  another  all 
the  time  he  wur  here,"  explained  the  Dumpy  Philoso- 
pher. "  Us  didn't  mind  that,  but  when  he  started 
to  treat  us  as  human  volks  wur  never  meant  to  be 
treated,  us  had  to  learn  'em  a  serious  lesson.  His 
uncle  promised  to  build  us  a  railway,  and  they  do 
say  he  left  money  vor  it;  but  Mr.  Drake  did  all  he 
could  to  stop  it  from  a-running.  American  gentle- 
men come  here  —  a  lot  of  'em  —  to  make  the  rail- 
way ;  but  he  said  us  didn't  want  it,  and  he  drove  'em 
away,  and  he  wouldn't  let  'em  spend  a  shilling.  Said 


368  A  DRAKE  BY  GEORGE ! 

they'd  come  here  to  buy  cloam.  Said  he'd  rather  see 
us  all  starve.  Said  he'd  build  the  railway  himself 
out  of  his  own  pocket,  and  he'd  put  a  big  watter- 
wheel  atop  o'  Highfield  hill  to  draw  the  trains  up; 
though  us  knew  he  couldn't,  vor  there  ain't  enough 
watter  coming  over  in  summer  to  draw  up  a  wheel- 
barrow. Said  he'd  make  Highfield  House  a  station 
and  put  a  terminus  in  the  back  garden.  I  don't 
know  what  else  he  warn't  going  to  do,  but  he  wur 
talking  childish  day  by  day.  And  when  he'd  de- 
ceived us  more  than  us  could  bear,  he  run  away." 

"  What  he  done  to  poor  and  honest  volk  don't 
hardly  seem  possible,"  said  the  Gentle  Shepherd. 
"  Mrs.  Drake  left  'en  Highfield  House,  and  all  the 
furniture  she  left  to  Bessie  Mudge  what  married  Rob- 
ert Mudge  who  works  vor  Arthur  Dyer.  They  ses 
she  left  part  of  the  furniture  to  Kezia,  but  Bessie 
ses  that  part  o'  the  will  be  so  mixed  up  it  can't  be 
hardly  legal.  Mr.  Drake  kept  on  going  away,  and 
coming  back  again;  and  one  day  he  come  back,  and 
drove  Miss  Yard  and  Kezia  out  of  the  place;  and 
he  goes  to  Dyer  and  bribes  'en  to  send  Robert  and 
Bessie  away  vor  a  holiday;  and  when  they'm  gone 
he  brings  up  vans  and  clears  out  all  the  furniture; 
and  he  breaks  into  Robert's  house  and  steals  a  lot  of 
his  furniture,  what  he  bought  and  paid  vor  wi'  his 
own  money ;  and  he  sells  the  lot  by  auction  avore  us 
could  recover  from  the  shock ;  and  he  ain't  never 


THE  GLEANERS  369 

been  seen  nor  heard  of  since.  And  I  fancy  'tis  the 
most  disgraceful  deed  what  can  ha'  happened  since 
the  creation  of  the  world." 

"  But  he  couldn't  take  the  house,  nor  yet  look  after 
it,  vor  us  wasn't  going  to  have  him  back  again  after 
the  way  he'd  used  us,  and  us  wasn't  going  to  have  'en 
letting  or  selling  the  place  neither,  and  making  money 
out  of  our  misfortunes,"  said  the  Wallower  in 
Wealth.  "  He  tried  to  ruin  us  all,  he  ha'  brought 
the  Mudges  to  awful  poverty,  and  he  ha'  pretty  near 
drove  the  Dyers  into  the  asylum,  and  he  stole  a 
musical-box  what  ha'  been  in  my  family  vor  genera- 
tions out  o'  mind.  It  wur  a  fine  house,  sure  enough, 
but  'tis  all  gone  now.  There's  nought  left  but  foun- 
dations, and  there's  not  much  o'  them,  and  you  can't 
see  'em,  vor  they'm  covered  wi'  grass.  The  trees 
be  all  cut  down,  and  the  shrubs  ha'  got  moved,  and 
the  garden  wall  ain't  there  no  longer.  The  house 
warn't  there  one  day,  and  gone  the  next,  as  some 
volk  say.  It  seemed  to  go  so  gradual  that  no  one 
noticed  it  really  was  a  leaving  us.  Us  all  knew  why 
it  wur  going,  and  how  it  wur  going ;  but  us  didn't  talk 
about  it  much,  vor  what  be  everybody's  business  ain't 
nobody's  business." 

"  The  youngsters  started  it,"  said  Squinting  Jack. 
"  They  smashed  the  windows  and  got  inside.  They 
sort  o'  took  possession  of  the  place  and  played  there 
every  day.  They  played  at  soldiers  mostly.  One 


370  CAPTAIN  DRAKE 

lot  o*  children  climbed  up  into  the  roof,  and  defended 
themselves  wi'  tiles  and  laths,  while  another  lot  at- 
tacked 'em  wi'  doors  and  window-frames.  And  when 
they'd  finished  play,  they  took  home  all  the  broken 
stuff  vor  firewood.  That  wur  the  beginning,  but 
in  an  amazing  short  time  the  house  began  to  alter; 
it  wur  never  the  same  place  after  the  children  got 
playing  in  it.  When  an  old  woman  wanted  wood  vor 
the  fire,  she  just  went  vor  it;  and  when  any  one 
wanted  a  new  door  or  window,  they  knew  where  one 
wur  handy.  Then  one  or  two  started  building  a 
cottage,  and  as  the  cottages  went  up  Windward 
House  come  down.  Some  mornings  us  missed  a  bit 
o'  wall  what  seemed  to  ha'  fallen  in  the  night,  but 
nobody  asked  questions,  vor  us  all  had  a  hand  in  it, 
but  there's  no  evidence  to  prove  it.  You  won't  find 
anything  worth  taking  away  now,  not  if  you  was  to 
search  wi'  a  miscroscope.  The  house  didn't  vanish 
away  suddenly,  not  by  no  manner  of  means." 

"  It  seemed  to  me,"  said  the  Gentle  Shepherd,  "  as 
if  it  melted." 

"  It  vanished  in  small  pieces,"  added  the  Dumpy 
Philosopher. 

The  Wallower  in  Wealth  had  nothing  more  to  say. 
The  giant  tortoise  had  transferred  itself  to  his  gar- 
den, having  apparently  engaged  a  wheelbarrow  for 
that  purpose.  Either  it  was  anxious  to  adopt  the 
Wallower  in  Wealth,  or  he  desired  to  study  its  habits 


THE  GLEANERS  371 

in  order  that  he  too  might  attain  eternal  life.  Or 
possibly  he  was  determined  to  obtain  some  compensa- 
tion for  the  lost  musical-box,  through  the  posses- 
sion of  a  genuine  antique,  which  might  with  some  pro- 
priety be  styled  the  sole  remaining  item  of  the  Cap- 
tain's furniture. 

The  Dismal  Gibcat  said  nothing  whatever,  al- 
though at  one  time  he  had  been  exceedingly  loqua- 
cious. His  was  the  only  voice  raised  in  protest 
against  those  who  pillaged  windows  and  door-posts, 
or  flitted  at  moonlight  with  joists  and  floorings.  He 
publicly  rebuked  a  poor  old  dame  whom  he  caught 
staggering  homeward  with  her  apron  full  of  laths. 
He  explained  the  law  as  to  wilful  damage  and  petty 
larceny,  and  he  dealt  with  the  moral  aspect  of  the 
matter  till  all  were  weary.  Finally  he  announced 
his  intention  of  protecting  the  property  of  the  ab- 
sentee owner  by  taking  care  of  it  for  him:  and  he 
removed  at  least  one  half  of  the  material  and,  by  ju- 
dicious guardianship  of  the  same,  succeeded  in  doub- 
ling the  accommodation  of  his  house. 

George  had  no  difficulty  in  speaking  like  a  whale, 
but  when  he  tried  to  talk  like  a  sprat  he  made  a 
mess  of  things.  Therefore  he  could  not  bring  Ma- 
tilda and  her  mother  to  understand  how  a  rascally 
trustee,  whose  name  was  Hunter,  had  sold  his  prop- 
erty and  made  off  with  the  cash.  They  were  sorry 
but  firm ;  Matilda  asserting  it  cost  very  little  to  keep 


372  A  DRAKE  BY  GEORGE ! 

a  woman ;  while  Jier  mother  pointed  out  with  con- 
siderable fluency  that  matrimony  was  always  less 
expensive  than  breach  of  promise  actions.  George 
gave  way  —  having  a  horror  of  the  fierce  light  of 
publicity  which  beats  upon  law-courts  —  and  became 
very  melancholy.  Nor  was  he  much  restored  to 
gaiety  by  the  joys  of  married  life;  for  Matilda  rap- 
idly developed  a  flow  of  small  talk  which  astounded 
him ;  when  George  ordered  her  to  bring  him  a  cup 
of  tea  she  prescribed  herself  a  glass  of  beer;  and 
when  he  called  for  his  slippers  she  threw  the  dirty 
boots  at  his  head  and  told  him  to  cleam  them.  Matri- 
mony was  not  all  bee-keeping  and  rose-pruning  for 
George. 

Still  more  tragic  were  affairs  at  Drivelford,  where 
Nellie  and  Sidney  had  come  to  realise  that,  for  them 
at  least,  the  married  state  was  unattainable.  Old 
ladies  can  be  very  selfish  sometimes,  and  in  that 
stimulating  atmosphere,  which  shared  with  many 
others  the  distinction  of  being  the  healthiest  in  the 
land,  Miss  Yard  grew  no  weaker  daily.  She  suffered 
from  a  slight  cold  last  winter,  but  was  all  the  better 
for  it  in  the  spring.  Indeed  in  merry  May-time  she 
made  the  shocking  suggestion  that  Sidney  should 
teach  her  to  ride  the  bicycle. 

With  such  dispiriting  examples  as  the  Yellow 
Leaf,  whose  longevity  was  becoming  a  public  scan- 
dal, and  whose  conduct  was  disgraceful,  as  he  would 


THE  GLEANERS  373 

not  be  refused  his  right  to  wed  the  youngest  grand- 
child of  one  of  his  middle-aged  connections ;  and  the 
giant  tortoise,  who  found  fresh  lettuces  more  lus- 
cious than  the  weeds  of  his  fifteenth-century  diet; 
and  the  eternal  obstacle,  Miss  Yard,  who  was  con- 
tinually giving  children's  parties  because  she  felt  so 
young  herself;  with  such  monuments  of  senile  sel- 
fishness before  them,  Nellie  and  Sidney  did  indeed 
appear  condemned  to  single  blessedness. 

But  happily,  according  to  the  latest  report  from 
Drivelford,  Miss  Yard  was  not  feeling  very  well. 
She  was  suffering  from  broken  chilblains. 


THE    END 


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